Mercy of a Monster
by Lovely-Viper-Venom
Summary: Jill's plan was to kill Wesker with her suicidal attack. Finding themselves alive, and at his mercy was not what she predicted. With only her own enemy to turn to, how will Jill survive, now that she is forced to be under Wesker's care?
1. Savior

Sooo...This is something that has been bothering me ever since playing the games. They start out by working together, he betrays them all...unrelenting hatred being harbored by both sides...and then she ends up being controlled by him in the last game? Well, I had some theories, probably not the best, but hey what is fanfiction for? Here is my take on what happened in all that time Jill and Wesker were stuck together.

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Chapter 1

Savior

_Everything hurts. Pain is surging and pulsating through every nerve existing in my body; right down to my toes and fingertips. It feels as if my body is shattered. Moving just a single finger sends new and sharper waves of pain through me. Breathing air is so difficult and sharp pains stab me in my chest when I intake air. Why can't I move anything? I want to die. It's too excruciating to be awake, to be alive. It hurts to even open my eyes to my surroundings. Darkness, the dull sound of rain echoes through my head. I suddenly become aware I am soaked from rain and lying in a pit of mud. Hands. I feel hands on my body. He's calling my name...Chris? Chris!..Is that you?.It's so hard to speak. Please, just get me out of here. Do something. Help me! It hurts so much..._

**{September 23rd, 2006. 1:20 A.M.}**

She was alive. Falling thousands of feet hadn't killed her where if it had been anyone else, they surely would have died upon impact. Wesker knelt by her side, checking her vitals. Jill's heartrate was weak, her touch clammy and a fair amount of blood loss. For trying to kill him like this, Wesker wanted to let the bitch lie here and rot. Fury burnt through every vein as he realized how close he finally was to killing Chris and then she had to ruin it for him. A small murmur came from her lips but it was so soft and inaudible he could not make it out. While his body went through an extensive amount of his energy and stamina to heal itself, he was not in such bad shape as poor Jill was. Having regenerative abilities was helpful for him, but for her...lying here in the mud, dirty and broke must be extremely painful...painful enough she could not even speak coherently. Wesker grimaced as he nudged her with his boot to see hardly a reaction to it. What to do with her? Leaving her now and allowing the slim chance Chris would find her and get her back to their base was a risk he wished not to take. Given their location and how far the next town was, how would he walk to it by himself and with her? Wesker reached into his coat's pocket and brought out the sleek phone. It was completely smashed to pieces. Buttons were missing and it was in three parts. The useless, broken phone was thrown to the mud as he sighed. Knowing bones would be broken, he carefully picked her up into his arms and carried her. There was more muttering from her cold lips and she placed her arm around his neck. It seemed to have taken a great deal of effort for her to even move her arm but after doing so, her face relaxed and he knew she passed out again. A quick shake of his arms and she didn't wince or move.

**{September 24th, 11:20 P.M.}**

_It was warm. Pain still dominated every part of my body...but I knew wherever I was, it wasn't in the mud and it wasn't raining. My eyes opened to see a white ceiling over my head. Rolling my head to the side, I could see white pillows and green covers. I was not familiar with this place and could not think of anywhere that would look like this. The window beyond the bed had its white shades closed and from the lack of light trying to break through them, I deduced it was still night. Where was Chris? I moved my head to the other side and found no one was in the room...this was not even a hospital room. The nightstand at the bedside had only a cheap lamp resting atop of it. This was a hotel...but why would Chris bring me here in this condition? I needed treatment! A hospital! _

Wesker carried a tray of various items to the nightstand. Jill was awake and staring at him but as it appeared, unable to voice her complaints. As he set the tray down, her eyes looked over the items; rolls of gauze, tweezers, a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, saline, medical tape, ACE bandages, Neosporin and scissors. The fact he even got these items meant he had intention of helping her and the condition she was in. Wide, terrified eyes returned back to him though and the first aid equipment was forgotten. Wesker sat at the edge of the bed gazing down at her. The gentleness he was showing her scared her the most. "You're filthy," he remarked. It earned a hardened glare when he said that and it almost made him laugh. Almost.

"That's the Jill I know," he said as he got up. The covers that had been keeping her warm were cast aside as he picked her up from the bed and carried her to the bathroom. It was all very confusing for her to believe. Wesker was planning on treating her wounds and helping her live. She was set carefully on the toilet seat as he ran the bath and wetted a towel. "I need you to take those clothes off so you can be washed down," he explained. The mere thought of being naked in front of her most hated enemy was sickening. No time was wasted as he huffed with impatience and tugged her pants off and her socks. It was amzing how much blood had been lost, staring at the dry rivulets and smudged dirt. Being half naked was not the worst part...as he wet the towel with warm water, he was careful with washing her thighs and calves down. She was half expecting him to rip the clothes clean from her body and throw her into the tub full of water to wash her.

Watching him do this, she noticed his eyes never looked up to her and he concentrated hard on making sure the wounds were cleansed of dirt and unneccessary debris. After her legs were down and cleansed of dirt and blood, he went to remove her shirt. When her arm lifted, she cried out in intense pain. ifting it was so much more painful than what she had felt while lying in the mud. Wesker stopped lifting the shirt off and tore the collar of it to inspect her. Deep bruising and swelling had occurred in her shoulder. "It seems you might have torn the rotator cuff...if not have snapped the ball and socket joint," he commented. Before she could say anything he had disappeared from the room and returned with scissors. The blades glided easily up her shirt as he cut it open so she wouldn't have to move her arm. Wesker stopped a moment and stared at her naked torso...and muttered. "And perhaps...broken ribs," he flicked her a glance before taking the towel and cleaning her arms, torso and back. Jill said nothing and only watched him closely, making sure he made no inappropriate moves...and he didn't. Everything about him, it was completely professional. Why was he doing this?

" Get up," he ordered. Jill could not see a reason to protest and followed him to the room with the towel clutched to her breasts. He motioned to the bed for her to sit on and she did, her eyes still on him. It puzzled her why he didn't kill her. As weak and incapacitated as she had been, it would have been easy. Seeing Wesker kneel before her was surreal. The whole situation was surreal that she was hoping she was dreaming.

_This is only a bad dream! I'll wake up in the hospital soon, with a cast, IVs in my arms and Chris waitign at my bedside for me to wake up! I'll be receiving the best medical treatment money and insurance can offer! Wesker is dead...I'm supposed to be dead. I cannot be trapped with him, I just can't be...sacrificing my life was supposed to guarantee his death. Why are both of us alive? _

Thoughts trailed off as she focused on the twinges of pain in her calf. Tweezers held up a large piece of pebble and was placed on an open towel on the floor. She only realized how cut up she truly was when she caught sight of her exposed legs. Pieces of rock and glass embedded under her skin where swelling was trying to take place, cut and gashes of different degrees crisscrossing over her flesh...she deduced she looked like complete hell. Trying to remain still was difficult and jerked only when the tweezers had to reach deep under the skin to retrieve the debris. When Jill would jerk her leg in pain, Wesker would only pause and wait before carrying on.

The time melted away and once he was done tending to her legs, the tired and exhausted Jill noticed sunlight fighting its way through the closed blinds. Morning had arrived and he was oblivious to it. Hands searched over her legs, inspecting for anymore rock fragments or glass. Satisfied, he wiped them down with alcohol to cleanse them. The liquid stung like a thousand small needles. Jill hissed loudly, and recoiled her legs from Wesker's touch. The blonde haired bastard finally tilted his head up to give her a direct look. The glare set in those fiery eyes hushed her up and she relaxed. It was beyond humiliating to receive care from a sworn enemy, much more from a man whom she had worked under that ended up betraying her and her team. It was shameful and embarrassing. This very man she loathed with every bit of energy and being, was treating her wounds. She watched as he ripped open a pack of gauze. Liberal amounts of the Neosporin was squeezed onto her legs and rubbed over evenly. The gauze was wrapped around gently and sealed with medical tape. It amazed Jill how gentle and careful those murderous hands were in tending to her wounds. A sigh of relief escaped Jill's lips as he finished with her legs...then her short-lived term of peace was interrupted by Wesker's clicking tongue.

"I sincerely hope you do not think we're finished. Take a good look at your arms, " he informed. Indeed the forearms were riddled with swollen lumps. A defeated sigh rolled off her lips as she rested a forearm on the nightstand. Wesker sat by it, and under the lamp's glow, began the slow, torturous work on her arm.

By time he was done with her arms, time had elapsed into the early afternoon. The arms were washed down in alcohol before the Neosporin was applied and the gauze wrapped around them. She surmised by time Wesker was done, she'd be a mummy. To top it off, she felt lightheaded and nauseous. The brain seemed to pulse against her skull and Jill was losing count of how many times it did this. Watching her glazed eyes, he reached for a small flashlight and tilted her head up. The light burnt to look into and she winced away. The rough hand grabbed her chin and this time, forced her to look into the light's path. The pupils were dilated and it was not a good sign. once the flashlight was set aside, his fingers slipped into her filthy, tangled tendrils of hair, their tips searching her scalp. They stopped when they came to a lump. It was large and there was a deep gash there. Luck seemed on their side. The bump he felt was onyl swelling around the gash and not a hemorrage. Without an explanation, he stood anf left Jill alone for no more than five seconds .Upon his return to her, Jill noticed he now held a pair of scissors; the same ones he used to cut her shirt open. Instinctively, her hands covered her head in fear. Wesker tilted his head slightly at her attitude.

"You have a gash on your head. I will need to cut some hair away to get to it and doctor it...unless you want it to get infected," he explained. The unusual patience in his vioce seemed to unconsciously sooth her into relaxing and lying her hands in her lap. The sound of the blades snipping hair away pierced through her ears. Jill watched as dirty, brown strands of her hair fell to the floor. A gasp filled her lungs when she felt cool liquid washing over the exposed scalp. It didn't burn and glimpsing the bottle he sat back down, realized it was only saline.

_He's being so gentle, and professional about this...what does he want from me? I wish I could think of him kindly as I did in S.T.A.R.S...but even that had been a lie. He never was good or innocent...and I'm in no position to fight back. Am I doomed forever to be at his mercy? The mercy of this despicable monster whose never been honest in his whole life? _

Once thw wound was cleansed of loose debris, dirt and blood, he got her up and walked her to the bathroom again. "Head over the sink," he ordered. A glare was directed at him before she obeyed. Cool water hit her scalp and was washing all the caked mud and blood from her once silky hair. The brown water swirled down the drain as Wesker made sure to wash the dirt out. The water helped to disguise Jill's sobs and tears.

Once cleansed, her hair towel dried and the gash on her head bandaged, Wesker went to wrap the ACE bandages around her rubs to help keep them in place to heal correctly. The fact all this time she had been naked in front of him hardly registered. There were no perverted glances from him or even one inappropriate brush of his hand on her body. The metal clip fastened the bandage together and felt very snug. Jill watched as he pulled out a T-shirt of black and some loose fitting sweatpants. She allowed him to dress her and still could not understand why he was helping her. Her savior was the most unlikely person. Sitting in the loose attire, her eyes watched as he unrolled another ACE bandage and began to make a sling around her neck and arm to support her shoulder. By time the whole "operation" was done, the clock was striking three in the afternoon. Loud growls emitted from her empty stomach. Finally cleaned, bandaged up and relieved, it was timt to tend to the hunger pains. How? The whole time she hadn't spoken a word to him...afraid the moment she did, the spell of kindness would shatter. As he picked up the large pile of broken glass and rock to dispose of, Jill fidgeted uncomfortably, determined to keep her eyes on the floor. A buzzing sound in the small kitchen caught her attention and she looked up. It was a microwave. A delicious smell began to fill the air, making her stomach rumble expectantly. When the timer went off, she watched as Wesker took out a cup and brought it to her. It was a cup of hot soup to drink. As she wrapped her fingers around the cup, lowering her head again, she could no longer let this continue on in silence.

"Why?" Jill croaked out with her broken voice. The look Wesker have her set fury to her veins. That mocking, smug gaze that made her feel like a simple child.

"Tell me! Why not let me die there? You been trying to kill us for so long! You had your chance to finish me off!"

Those red eyes narrowed and looked murderous as he stood from his seat. His height was intimidating and she cowered but only a bit. Defiance was beginning to give courage to retaliation.

"Don't think for an instant I never let that thought cross my mind, Jill," he hiss angrily. " As for killing _both_ of you, you are mistaken. _Chris_ was the one I wanted to kill, but you fucked that up for me!"

A silence fell between them and Jill looked down at the cup of soup, fidgeting again. It didn't make much sense, because she was there in the beginning with Chris. Many of Wesker's plans were set back or completely ruined due to Chris' interference. A lot of the fault lay in Chris' hands, but it didn't exclude her. Jill had a hand in interfering with his plans and last night had nearly killed him with her suicidal attempt to stop him. Why did he seem to only hold Chris responsible?

"In fact, for me to decide to save you, fix you up and_ remotely _be concerned with your well being, you should be on your knees _groveling_ me," Wesker spat. It did strum a heartstring in her when he mentioned that...but what price was she going to have to pay in the end for his "help"? In all their confrontations, she was always pushed aside by him as he zeroed in on her partner. She jumped out a window with Wesker to kill him and got saved for it! If Chris had done the same thing for her, he would still be in that cold, dark chasm, covered in mud, broken and forgotten only after Wesker made damn sure he was dead. The two were silent; inhuman eyes staring down at her and azure ones never looking higher than the floor. "How long was I out?" she asked calmly. It was a while before he answered her question.

"Twenty two hours," he informed. No longer concerned with their tense dispute moments ago, she snapped her head up and looked him directly in the eyes, thinking it was incredulous to have been out that long. "Really? That long...?" Jill asked sheepishly. A single nod of his head confirmed her answer. It hadn't seemed that long. All this time she had thought last night was the same night they fell from that mansion...but it did explain how he had the time to pick up the first aid supply, clothing and look unusually clean for having been in mud too. The warm cup was warming her hands and she became aware again of the soup. A sip was taken from it and it warmed everything on its way down to her stomach. Fingers rotated the cup nervously, her eyes staring into the gold colored broth.

"Thank you..." she said unwillingly. No matter what he did, common manners dictated you thank whoever helps you. There was no response for a couple of minutes that passed by. Once he sat on his own bed, he murmured something that most would have never caught. Jill did...it was truly a surprise he could say, "You're welcome," to anyone.


	2. Trapped in a Nightmare

Chapter 2 

Trapped in a Nightmare

**{September 25th, 7:12 P.M.}**

The evening light was fading over the soft rolling hills outside. It was quiet in the small hotel room as Jill slept soundlessly in bed and Wesker was sitting at the old, wooden table with the phone in his hand. Fingers swiftly dialed a number that was written on a crumpled, old piece of a paper laying near the phone. The elegant handwriting was feminine and flirtatious; a woman's number. It was a stroke of luck he still had the number in his coat pocket and possibly the only ticket out of this small town in the middle of nowhere.

As events would have it, favoring Company S, had been in his best interest. Company S had been Tricell all along, the conglomerate company that dealt with pharmeceuticals, shipping and refining natural resources. It was a multi-billion dollar company that had the finances to provide him with the technology and the resources he needed to proceed with his own plans. From his interactions with Tricell, he came across a young, beautiful woman who worked in the genetic engineering division. With everything he needed provided by him by Tricell, for the small price of various viral samples including the Las Plagas parasite, and discovering Excella Gionne's indignance over Tricell signing her one team...he was in an excellent position to bargain with the woman.  
He discovered while she may be snobbish and haughty, Excella had a talent in the field of genetic engineering and high acumen for business. Assigning her one team and slighting her for the simple fact she was an offshoot of the famed Travis family bloodline, was indeed insulting from what Wesker gathered. With the provisions he had gained, he decided to make a deal with her. If she would help him in his own endeavors, he could help catapult her through the Tricell ranks to the position of power she so desired. With an agreement reached, he began to lay it all on the table for her. All the research done on the T-virus and other viruses. The uses they had planned for them and the experiments conducted. To keep in contact, she had slipped him her personal number and he kept it. While she might see his "advances" as romantic, nothing could be further from the truth...

"Yes...well, unfortunately I ran into some difficulties. Remember the people I told you about that are determined to have me dead?...Yes, them. No, I am fine. All I need is a way out of this small town. The address is...4658 Ferrine Rd...yes. I shall see you then," he hung up immediately after the last word left his lips. Enduring her cooing and distraught voice over the possibility of him injured was more than he could take, especially now. Another headache was residing with him and while she may look harmless in her sleep, Wesker knew her well enough to know better. A small voice in the back of his mind raised the question whether or not he should have informed his "business partner" about the additional guest. Only a few moments of deliberation decided that he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

**{ Night time. 10:23 P.M.}**

The window was dark, void of any sunlight. The place was remarkably quiet as Jill's eyes fluttered open. The kitchen light and soft glow of the lamp was the only help in gaining her bearings. It felt warm too. Too warm to be comfortable. The covers that she was under were light and not very heavy and she didn't think Wesker would turn the heat up higher...if you were even allowed to in a hotel room. _It might be a fever from my blood loss and trauma_, she thought. Whenever she had gotten fevers in the past, Jill always soaked a washcloth in cool water and set it on her forehead while taking fever reducers. It was a tough time but she managed to get out of bed and walk towards the bathroom...she stopped and thought about the situation. IF Wesker was out getting something, he would have left her alone here. It was a big risk for him to take and he probably counted on her condition to keep her sleeping for a long time. Blue eyes drifted away from the bathroom to the hotel door. Would she be able to make a run for it before he was able to return to the hotel? Trembling feet wanted to run and burst through the hotel door, and out of this place of nightmares. The hopes of escaping were dashed in the instant they were beginning to bud. Running water in the bathroom distracted Jill from the hotel door and made her focus on the closed one. Wesker was in there. Jill's body made her realize something upon hearing the sound of the water. Ever since getting to the mansion, she had not had a chance to use the bathroom for some time. The urges kicked in so suddenly she nearly doubled over. She hadn't the slightest idea what he was doing but her body was demanding her to rid herself of undesirable subjects. Whatever he was up to, he would have to wait. Jill's bandaged hand gently knocked on the door to get his attention. When the door opened, Jill was again taken back by the normality Wesker was presenting.

A damp cloth was wiping white shaving cream from his face as he opened the door for her. Not a stubble remained and his tanned skin appeared to be smooth as silk. Cat-like eyes remained focused on her, not showing an inkling of emotion. Catching him at a time like this when he wasn't trying to snap her neck, or break every bone in Chris' body, or manipulating some poor bastard was strange and unusual for her.

"Yes?" he said impatiently, tired of her gawking at him. Jill acted like she never seen anyone shave before and it began to dawn on him...she was not used to witnessing him act so...domestic. Maybe throwing her around the room a bit would make her more comfortable.

"I..I need to...um..." she fumbled for words. The confusion in her face left as she growled and glared at him, finally frustrated with him and her own uncertainty. "I need to use the bathroom, ok?" she shouted. The stubborn features amused him and he stepped out, giving a bow of his head in mockery to her demand. He shut the door on her and let her alone to her business. Blue eyes still were set in an angry glare at that pompous, egotistical jerk. With her one good hand, she managed to tug down the sweats.

Sitting there on the toilet she looked around. The hopes of escaping the hotel were shattered once again when she realized the bathroom had no window to provide for any escape. The air vent would have been too noisy and besides its small size, it was situated above the bathroom. Jill simply could not imagine her crippled body trying to crawl up into a ceiling and through air vents. All the racket that would be included would alert him before she even figured out how she was going to hoist herself into the vent with one arm. She couldn't get far with how banged up she was...and if she did manage to sneak away, he would slaughter anyone in his way. Something told her he would not be playing nice like this unless he wanted something important out of her. If she disappeared, he would hunt her down like an animal. Jill held her face in her bandaged hands and cried silently, lamenting her situation that seemed to provide no escape.

The phone was set down on the receiver when Wesker was done with it. An order of some pasta plates were requested for dinner. It was no steak and potatoes but he would take what he could get. Besides, after both of them being damaged as bad as they had been, heavy foods like meat would be a big mistake. Satisfaction rested inside him, knowing in the morning a group sent by Excella would pick them up and take them into the city. Jill would then be able to receive decent medical care for her wounds, and he would not have to stay in some privately owned hotel like this. The BSAA would probably be snooping close too, trying to figure out where they were. Losing one of their own and one of their primary targets was a big loss and they weren't going to take that lying down. Chris would make sure of that.

The next priority would be to eat and getting her to eat the food too. Ever since she got into the bathroom, she hadn't come out. Time ticked by slowly and she never emerged. It was likely she was going through a crisis, having been thrust into a situation neither of them saw coming. Wesker dealt with such situations more coolly and effectively than Jill did. It seemed to him that she was still believing this was all a dream. _If only it was_, he thought. He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and dug into his dirtied coat's pocket. A small, dented metal case slid from the pocket and he put it on the table. Wesker fell into the chair with a sigh and slid the button down and the case popping open. There were five doses left...more than enough until he could get Excella to replicate the medication...which shouldn't be so hard to do. The woman seemed easy enough to manipulate due to her obvious interest in him. He would just have to play that to his advantage.

Everything in Jill's will screamed for her to remain in the bathroom. Facing that monster out there again in this kind of situation was worse than their battle in the Spencer mansion. Every response to Wesker was always to attack. To face him now when he was acting half way civil, Jill was at a loss on how to properly act. So much rage was still inlaid in her thoughts about everything he had done. As time ticked by, she finally decided she ought to go out and face the pathetic asshole. She stared at herself in the mirror a moment, noting the bandages wrapped around her head and sighing in defeat. To be this far in debt with the enemy...it was an insult to her ego and pride. A shake of her head dispersed the thoughts as she opened the door and stepped out. Again Wesker was not around. She neared the table and was jubilant to see what was there. A plate of mostachelli covered in mariana and cheese. Thoughts of finding Wesker were immediately shoved aside as she sat and stared at the food.

A small fork rested at the plate's side and she picked it up. It delved into the noodles and lifted up a good sized bite. It was not very hot by the looks of it, and she studied it a moment, sniffing at thick noodles to make sure nothing had been slipped into it. _Actually...that would defeat the purpose for him to slip any poisons into it. Going through all this trouble to fix me up only to poison me would make no sense. And he is always about sense and agendas. _

Jill's haste to eat served her badly. Just on the other side of the wall was the kitchen, which Wesker was standing in. The finished plate was in the sink and he was wiping his hands off when he saw her emerge from the bathroom at long last and sit right at the table before her serving of food. It appeared she was going to take a bite of the food until she stopped and sniffed at it first. It provided amusement for him for her to think he would spike her food with anything. It was a smart precaution when being around him however. The approach was silent as he made his way towards her.

A looming shadow distracted Jill. It was tall, and very, very close. The realization made her spin around in the chair only to face that madman, Wesker. He was standing right behind her, his face as usual, devoid of any emotion. The two stared at one another a while, Jill absentmindedly searching those red eyes. This bothered him, yet he did not want to look away and back down first. "Hurry up and get to sleep...we'll be picked up tomorrow morning and you need rest," he stated coolly. The voice broke the shock that had fell upon her when she noticed he was standing right behind her. The heart's beat slowed to a normal pace when he walked away to sit on the end of his bed. Jill looked to the appetizing food before her and decided to shovel it down for now. She'd comply only until she could find an opening to escape, and it had to be before his 'friends' came to get them.

Jill shoved the finished plate away and got up to get into the bed. Wesker watched her wobble over there, and noticed she seemed flushed. The moment she sat on the edge of her bed, he leaned over and placed a naked hand to her forehead. It was only a second before he took it away and declared what Jill thought earlier.

"You have a fever..." he murmured. "Lie in bed," he instructed with more force in his voice and he got up, disappearing into the bathroom. The man was truly confusing her to no end. Someone who was a killer and now, a doctor? She did as told and layed in the bed. The sound of water was distant and didn't last long. A damp, cold cloth was produced and he lay it on her head. Not predicting the fever right away, he hadn't picked up anything to alleviate it. The cloth was laid on her forehead and it was a near blessing. It felt so good to have the cold cloth on her forehead that Jill sighed in relief and closed her eyes. Tired eyes opened back up when she noticed Wesker walking away and taking his shirt off. Again she was finding it odd of him to act so normal. Shaving, undressing...things a normal man did in his daily life, yet Wesker was no normal man. Watching him fold the shirt in half and hang it on the back of the chair even seemed awkward. It was like some cruel joke life was playing on her. Eyes registered every move he made and became even more infuriated with him for presenting himself as some normal person. The moment she watched him pull the covers down and slide into his bed, she decided she would have to escape once he began to sleep. This would be her only chance at getting out of this bad dream.

Hours passed by and Jill was growing restless. The lights were all turned out and Wesker slept so still she couldn't tell if he was just lying there awake, or if he was really sleeping. The clock read eleven at night, and she had been lying here waiting for him to sleep the past two hours. Could she risk trying to sneak out now? _It's worth a try_...Jill snuck out as quietly as possible, tiptoeing to the door. The deadbolt was slid back slowly, not wanting to make a single sound. She had no way of knowing if Wesker slept lighter than a feather or heavier than a rock. The moment the deadbolt was rolled back she turned the small lock on the handle sideways and turned it. The door fell open silently and she slipped out, shutting the door with only the dullest of clicks. Out in the open hall and down a staircase...she would be free. The hall was lit dimly by offset lamps on the walls. The red rug led all the way to the end of the hall where some old, wooden stairs led to the restaurant downstairs. No voices presented themselves and she deduced it was empty. Everyone was in their rooms and the keeper had to be asleep. Bare feet tiptoed down the stairs, crouching down to see if anyone was down there before she went further. The movement was a mistake as her weight was pushed onto one leg and the stair under her creaked loudly and echoed off the walls. She was done for. "Hello?" a feeble voice called. Jill's head snapped up to see an older man coming from the back of the bar, a rag in his hand. The owner was still down here cleaning up and she just been caught. The sight of such an injured girl made the owner worry and grow concerned for her condition. "Little lady, you ought to be up in your room, restin'," he said gently. Fearful eyes glanced up the staircase to the hall, hoping he was not waking up and hearing them.

_Something is not right. Wake up. _Even in sleep, he was well aware of his surroundings. Something was off in the room, the atmosphere and his subconscious was trying to wake him up so he could correct this problem. Eyes snapped open, glowing an ominous red. Wesker sat up and his eyes darted to her bed. Empty. The bathroom was dark and the door left open. Empty. No one else was in the room with him when they were supposed to be. Coversd were thrown clear off the bed as he yanked open the door and peered down the hall. A slim shadow of a feminine figure was there. She was trying to run for it, the stupid girl. Wesker silently walked down the hall until he had Jill in his sights. The owner was asking her why she was out of bed. _Good question_, he angrily asked himself. He stepped down the steps while Jill was distracted and lay a hand on her good shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

" She is out of bed because she is hungry...she hasn't ate much since the accident. Right, _darling_?" he said, turning to face her. A shiver so cold ran down her spine at his voice. If she said anything, she knew it would give away that she was scared for her life. This man, this poor, innocent, old man would be caught up in something that didn't involve him and be killed. A smile was forced on her lips and she nodded some in compliance. A warm smile came across the wrinkled old features of the man and he went into the kitchen to heat up some soup for the two. The moment he disappeared into the kitchen, Wesker slammed Jill against the wall where it was darkest. The closeness sent Jill's heart racing so quick, she began to feel dizzy. "You ever try to escape again, Jill, I will put you in worse pain than you can ever imagine...even worse than falling down a cliff," he hissed at her ear. The threat was taken very seriously and she nodded her head with reluctance. It wasn't in her plans to be caught but to be provided with an easy escape route was asking too much anyway. She should have known better. Abruptly he pulled away and straightened himself out as the owner came back with two large styrofoam cups filled with hot soup for the two. Wesker took them with grace and nodded for Jill to walk up first. She did, walking with a slow step and shivering as she imagined a monstrous beast behind her, stalking her...and his anger at the time was indeed monstrous.

The door slammed shut and was locked. Fury burnt through every vein as he rounded on Jill. The woman was frightened and clearly afraid he would act upon his threat at that very moment. The cups of soup were clutched to her chest still as she sat down on the edge of her bed, not being able to say a word in protest. Those eyes didn't dare to look upon him while he was in full rage and were trained on the cheap green carpet of the room. "You're more trouble than you're worth, Jill," he angrily declared. Brown brows furrowed in their own fury as she felt the hatred in her heart well up inside her. Jill had opened her mouth to speak but thought better of it. Telling him off while he was in this mood was more suicidal than jumping from a window. A voice inside her wanted to say that it was his own fault, because he saved her...but she realized that as long as Wesker allows her to live, there was a standing chance to see Chris again and take Wesker down once and for all. If she was stupid enough to invite his murderous anger, then she would be one less person and Wesker would still be at large. Jill could have been happy to die as long as it meant Wesker's tyranny ended...but if she died and he didn't, it would not help anything.

Wesker decided he would have to stay up all night. As long as she was not locked down in some cell, she would find any chance to escape him. When they were picked up tomorrow, he would have to see about having a room specially designed to keep this lock-picking, stubborn, defiant woman confined and at zero risk of escape. The two stared at one another for a long while, challenging one another silently. The two soups lay on the table forgotten, and growing cold. Night was giving way to the morning and both were locked in their own silent battle with one another. He wanted to break her. She wanted to beat the living shit out of him. It was hours after the incident downstairs Jill finally showed signs of wavering. Lids began to flutter as exhaustion overtook her. Resisting for as long as she did, her body could no longer stay awake and she fell asleep. The body unconsciously lied on the bed and found a comfortable position to sleep in. Wesker watched silently as she went back to sleep and now relaxed. He'd talk to Excella about a way to contain Jill...once he calmed the Italian woman down when she would find out another woman was involved. Even Wesker let out a quiet yawn as he slumped in his chair, napping lightly and every once in a while glancing to the digital clock for the time. The moment he watched it creep to seven O'clock, he forced himself up to pack the medical supplies and ready to leave.

Nightmares of her past plagued her unconsciousness. It was a small, cramped office room. Fall sunlight was filtering through the shades. Barry, Chris, Joseph, Brad and herself were being introduced to their newest captain. Their previous one transferred to the west coast, his wife wanting to be closer to her own family. It saddened the bunch as they really liked their old captain but respected his wishes to move. Last night they all had a big party to celebrate his leaving and all of them were still a little hung over to even be at work. Chris was nursing a soda while Joseph was drinking hot coffee to wake himself up. Their chief walked in with a man who wore sunglasses. The blonde hair was slicked back and his tanned skin was smooth and tight. Jill's eyes popped slightly at the sight of such a beautiful man who would be their new captain. Chris waved his hand in front of her face. It brought her out of the trance and she playfully slapped Chris on the shoulder for the gesture and got a laugh from him. The chief cleared his throat and they all settled down. "This is your new captain. He was recently promoted a few months ago," he said. The blonde nodded. " My name's Albert Wesker. I'm glad to have the privelege to lead a team as seasoned as you are," he said smoothly.

When they were given the mission to find out what was going on in Raccoon City, they began to see the better sides of their new captain. Before being given the mission, they had finally convinced their captain to go out drinking with them. Barry had left early, having a family to return to, but the others all stayed out late. Who knew once someone got whiskey into Wesker he would be more loosened up and good at telling stories that sent the crowd reeling with laughter...at work though, he was calm, collected and focused. Nothing rattled him. When they had to move out to rescue Bravo team when their helicopter malfunctioned, he was alert and quick but made such reasonable decisons without a hint of panic. It made Jill proud to know they had a captain they could rely on and not have to worry about. Who would have known he was the reason behind it ALL...behind the whole nightmare involving Raccoon...turning Barry against them because he threatened Barry's family, aiming a gun at her, shooting Rebecca...he was working for Umbrella all along. They were just fools. Their new captain they were all just starting to warm up to betrayed them all without one hint of regret or remorse for anything he'd done.

Flashbacks of him in his S.T.A.R.S. uniform melded into the Wesker she knew today. The one with the monsterous strength, impeccable speed and agility...and those haunting, inhuman eyes...lightning flashed across the library room again. He was at the window and in one bright flash of light, was in front of her slamming her into a glass bookcase. Those eyes lit up like burning embers as he strangled her, slowly squeezing her throat tightly and watching her squirm.

**{September 26th. 7:09 A.M.}**

Jill thrashed in bed and woke up gasping for air. Sweet oxygen filled her lungs as she opened her eyes to the hotel room. She was alive. The mansion dissolved around her as she realized where she was again...and now she regretted moving so sharply. Pain shot through her like a strong, electrical current. It was unfathomable. A cry echoed through the room and soon that despicable man in black approached her. Furious blue eyes glared at him as she grabbed the nearest thing next to her with her one good arm and chucked it at him. The lmap shattered against the wall, followed by the clock, the phone book and cold soup. Wesker dodged these objects effeciently, a blur in the moment he moved to avoid the attacks. "Don't you come near me! STAY AWAY!"

_I don't want you near me! You caused me and everyone so much suffering! Poor Joseph! Poor Barry! Poor anyone who you ever ruined in your cursed life on this soil! Why do you have to come after me now? Haven't you hurt enough people! I don't want to be your little puppet! I rather you kill me than string me along like a pet. I hate you, Wesker! Everything you stand for, I hate it! This cannot be how it ends...! _

In a quick moment, he was upon her and pinning her arm down to keep her from attacking. Whatever she had been dreaming, it was of him and it wasn't good at all for her to wake and be throwing things at him. Jill growled and struggled, cursing at him and trying to free herself. Realizing nothing she did would make him release her she let tears slide down her cheeks, giving up. There seemed to be no way out of this. It was such a beautiful day out. Sunlight filling the sky, warmth on the earth and birds singing outside amongst vibrant flowers...and yet it was the most bleakest and darkest day for Jill Valentine.

The SUV drove over the muddied dirt road leading into the small town. The sleek black vehicle cut through the streets easily while a woman in the backseat crossed her legs and smoothed out her black dress. The compact mirror revealed her make-up was flawless and her hair had not a strand out of line. Everything was perfect. It was a small town with many winding streets but they finally reached the destination; a quaint hotel in town. The large SUV rolled to a soft stop in front of the two story hotel, Excella Gionne stepping out and surveying the place from behind her designer sunglasses. It was much too poor for her liking and lamented the idea 'dear' Albert had to stay in such a seedy looking place. He should have called sooner. They waited only a few minutes before he emerged from the main entrance. Excella's face lit up seeing this wonderful looking man again but quickly soured when she saw another woman with him. By the looks of it though...they weren't exactly involved with one another as she feared. Wesker steered Jill towards the vehicle by her elbow, the brown hair woman clenching her jaw in fury as she was led. Excella mused about the situation and wondered what this woman had to do with Albert. Jill was forced into the car and sat down at the other side, the door slammed shut. The inquisitive, emerald eyes stared at Wesker, expecting him to explain what exactly was going on. The moment was not right to explain the history he had with Jill, and Chris. The only thing on Wesker's mind was getting out of this country, off this continent so he could escape any chance of the BSAA finding him while scouting for Jill.

"You look distraught," she cooed softly. This man...had always intrigued Excella. The strong, firm features of his face, the callous attitude and the wealth of intelligence he had to offer. The moment she had accepted the bargain Wesker proposed, she gained access to his stash of knowledge of Umbrella that Tricell would have killed for. It was overwhelming how deadly the man-made viruses were and fascinating what they could do if they adapted to the human body as they were intended to. The experiments they had conducted were obviously inhumane, but that thin, little line has never stopped medical research before. As she recalled, while scientists and medical experts were trying to find how the 1912 Flu spread, they used prisoners. Even if it had been voluntary, it never defeated the fact they were used for medical experimentation.  
The surprises did not stop with the explanation of Umbrella's corrupt and cruel history. As she would find, even Wesker himself had been infected...but he was the epitome of what Umbrella had been striving for. The prototype product of a superhuman. Learning his age had been a shock as he certainly did not look like most men who were that old. Superhuman strength, accelerated regenerative abilities, unfathomable speed and a slower aging process...he was the perfect example. Slipping him her personal number was done under the guise of business...but the truth was, she was always hoping he would call her for more than just that.

" Don't be silly, Excella. I'm not distraught at all. I simply want to get out of here," he coolly remarked. He opened the door and climbed into the far back seat, Excella getting in and sitting down in front of him, next to Jill. The two women glanced to one another. Excella sneered at Jill's "attire", not approving of the fashion; sweatpants and plain, old t-shirts set. Jill seemed to find Excella just as unpleasant. The scowl in her features made it plain she hated people like Excella, and the wrinkling of her nose could have meant she disliked the heavy perfume Excella was wearing. Wesker grinned a little to himself. He had to agree with Jill...he didn't like it too much either.


	3. The Horrific Reality

Chapter 3

The Horrific Reality

_Who _is_ this woman? She's dressed liked royalty. Why would someone like her be interested in Wesker? I doubt it's just his looks...and Umbrella is no more. Spencer is no more. What does he have to offer that she cannot get already? Nothing...except knowledge of Umbrella's research. And at that, why would she be interested? Any interest in it would make her immediate grounds for suspicion for biological weapons. That's all Wesker really knows..._

**{September 26th. 10:00 A.M.}**

The car ride was long, and winding through the mountainous turns. It scared Jill to think they were driving thousands of feet in the mountains and there were no guard rails...just two feet between them and the edge of a cliff dropping a thousand feet. Falling down one once in her life was more than enough times. It made Jill avert her eyes to the back of the driver's seat, determined not to put much thought into the ride. It had been a silent ride too, and she wasn't the kind to make 'polite conversation' with people who meant to cause her harm. What worried her now was this woman. Obviously of wealth and education, she radiated the ideals of political and social influence. With Wesker's ideas and her money...Jill feared for the world. Her bandaged head rest against the seat's head support and she closed her eyes. If she didn't plan on talking to these monsters, and didn't plan on watching the landscape go by, sleep was the next option available. It was better than looking at these eye sores for the rest of this trip.

Excella watched as Jill ignored them and decided to go to sleep. It was probably best, considering her poor condition. It appeared Albert done everything he could with what limited resources he had to tend to her wounds. Better medical attention was required for her but she was impressed with his quick thinking. What bothered her is why he would save this woman. Clearly the two hated one another and her 'tagging along' was more or less in bare terms, kidnapping. Excella was not stupid enough to overlook the way this brown haired woman glared at Wesker and how he brusquely aided her in the car. Something was missing...and she didn't peg Albert the kind to be vengeful on ex-girlfriends. These two were rivals...somehow. Maybe since she was sleeping, he would enlighten her more about this situation and what significance this woman held.

"Albert, I was under the impression when you called that it was only you...I didn't know you were the kind to take others in, " she purred.

Wesker, who had been napping lightly with his new shades resting on his nose, was stirred from the nap by Excella's voice. It seemed she was very curious about Jill. Wesker had caught Excella's first glance at Jill and decided he didn't want her anywhere near her. The man hard hardly any stock in emotions himself, but he was wise enough to recognize them when they were displayed. Excella would harm Jill if given the chance, and given reason to believe Jill merited more attention. "I will explain later," he ensured. It was not the answer Excella had been looking for and a pout formed in her features. She was just a bit nosy for her own good. "Once we get to wherever you're taking us, I will explain to you, I promise," he soothed. It must have worked, as Excella's features returned to normal and a small smile appeared.

**{7:05 P.M.}**

The drive lasted until the evening. The sunset painted the sky in shades of gold, orange and vermillion. A nice, warm breeze was in the air as they exited from the large SUV. Jill's tired eyes adjusted to the fiery sunset and the new location. It was still mountainous wherever they were at, but the little clearing they were at turned out to be a privately owned airfield. Strictly for privately owned planes and small corporate jets. Such a plane was on a strip of tarmac, its engines warmed and spinning. Where were they going that they required a jet to get there? Were they even going to still be in Europe? The three were shown to the steps and got in the small aircraft. The luxury in the plane was evident. White silk curtains around the small, round windows, lush white leather seats, and polished, wooden tables rooted into the floor. The floor itself was carpet, a warm, light shade of beige. Neither the two seemed to notice the posh surroundings as Jill did. Wesker allowed Excella the window seat and sat on the outer seat, while Jill sat alone across from them. They buckled in as the plane began to move, racing down the runway before lifting off the ground gracefully.

**{8:34 P.M.}**

It was a long ride, and the night had taken over the sky. Fanciful lights lit up the cabin with a gentle glow, that allowed them to see well but didn't hurt their eyes. Scents of garlic and basil wafted into the room and was a quick reminder to Jill she hadn't ate anything all day because of this trip. The aspect of getting dinner was good, but the company really bothered her. Both of them were not talking, and had chosen to read to pass time. Wesker was reading something more peculiar; an old looking book. Nothing would be able to tear the man from the interest in the volume, as he seemed to absorb everything he was reading. Soon enough, the origin of the scents filling the cabin were set before them. Glazed chicken in garlic and basil, with sides of pasta. The simple sight made Jill's desire for food kick into overdrive. As she picked up the fork and knife laid before her and taking a bite of the savory poultry, the chewing slowed as she watched the others. These captors of hers...she could not help but watch them, studying them and how they moved. The gaze was turned down to the sauce covered pasta and glazed chicken in thought. The fork pushed the pasta around as she thought about Chris, and the BSAA. About home and everything else. Jill didn't notice Excella was watching her...and she nudged Wesker, nodding her head to Jill.

Wesker watched Jill a moment. It was a fact he knew she hadn't ate all day and the idea of a heavy dinner should have interested her. Only after one hungry bite, she lapsed back into that quiet form and stared at the food but not truly seeing it.

"Jill. You must eat," he said. The order effected her, as in a flash she stabbed the fork deep into the cooked bird, crushing through the bones without resistance. No longer could she contain all the things she wanted answered and was now at the point where she was not asking, she was demanding.

"Why did you save me, Wesker? What is the fucking POINT? I want to know NOW!" she shouted. Fury radiated off her as she stood on shaky legs, trying to force some intimidation into him. Nothing she did changed the stoic, unchanged features of his face. The plans he had for her were not concrete yet, and he would have to refine some of the ideas. Wesker wasn't about to enlighten her to the fact because the ideas he did have for her she might have found more than disagreeable.

"Because it would tear Chris apart to never find you, giving me some satisfaction when I was robbed of the chance to kill him...besides. I was not going to leave you alive in that chasm, a chance for you to regroup with Chris and interfere with anymore of my plans. You deserve some of my vengeance too," he explained. It was a rather generic excuse but the effect it had on Jill had her sink back into her seat and quiet down. The rage that had been proudly displayed, smoldered into embers and didn't flare back up again. It made her ponder more questions then she had before. Vengeance? Was doctoring her wounds a form of his torture and vengeance? So far, he hadn't done anything to harm her physically. The only thing he'd done so far was threaten her to never try escaping again. Wasn't this bad enough? At her enemy's mercy for the rest of her life or until he does decide to kill her? It made her sick to her stomach to know she could never enjoy freedom again...that was definitely a form of torture.

**{10:45 P.M.}**

It was still night time when they landed at a small, private airport outside Rome. The moon hung high in the sky and cast a eerie glow onto the earth. To think she'd ever visit Rome...but she didn't have the chance to marvel. Jill was preoccupied with keeping her wits about her. The two flanked her sides as they strolled to a sleek, black livery car awaiting them. The driver smiled to the trio and opened the door to allow them to climb in. Excella went first and Jill hesitated, then glanced back to see Wesker glaring at her, waiting for her to move. She did so with a grimace and sat in the middle, keeping herself from touching or brushing up against either of these monsters. The car pulled off, driving into the normally busy streets and heading towards Rome.

"I would like to show you the facility I currently work at. It's more than accomodating for the two of you. You may stay there as long as you like," Excella offered. The glossy tone of her voice didn't sit right with Jill and she turned away disgusted at her...but the view on her right wasn't exactly any better. Facility. The word chilled Jill's spine. A place like that where experimental drugs are tested and made, where a lot of hush-hush research would no doubt be conducted, Jill felt like she was walking right back into that lab in Spencer's mansion...right back into a nightmare she been having for almost all her adult life. Would it ever end?

The facility was large, spanning across thirty acres. It was out in the open suburbs, away from the main city. Tall, barbed fences marked off the property limits and each post guarded by armed security. The car drove up to a post and Excella showed them her ID badge for access. The man in the beret nodded and the fence was rolled back to allow entrance. The front entrance was nice, with a properly groomed stretch of lawn, and a fancy water fountain. The Italian flag hung in the air on its post, and below it the logo for Tricell. Jill only stared at it a moment before edging out and stepping from the car. There were no handcuffs, and no restraints, but she felt exactly like a prisoner would. One wrong move and she would be in a world of pain. Eyes were downcast as she went with them into the building, her eyes straining to adjust to the flourescent lights buzzing overhead. Being so late at night, only a skeleton crew ran the building. The lobby held a large directory for them, explaining each level of the place and what the level contained. Excella looked to it and pointed out more interesting aspects to Wesker.

" The lowest levels, eighteen, nineteen and twenty, are the lab levels. The two levels above it, sixteen and seventeen, are the infirmary levels. Anything Jill will need now...x-rays, medication, tests...can all be done at those levels. Levels ten to fifteen are dorm levels. Our workers are assigned one, and though they may not live in them, they are there in case they wish to stay and work later. We could possibly find a place for Jill there too. As well as yourself," Excella explained. Wesker stared thoughtfully at the directory. Jill was a master of lockpicking. He could not risk putting her in a normal dorm without some alternations made to ensure no risk of attempted escapes. Where could they keep her until then?

" Our Jill here is a high risk for escaping," Wesker explained. Excella clapped her hands together and smiled brightly at him.

" That will not be a problem, Albert!" Excella ensured. Wesker did not doubt the pride she had that the project would be done in two days' time, but he wondered where Jill would have to stay. The room he would be staying in was out of the question. After sharing the hotel room with her the last two days, he had confirmed she was not the best "roommate" for him. Certainly not if she was going to wake up every time and throw objects at him. "Where will she be kept?" he asked.

Excella smiled and just waved them along as she walked to an elevator and pressed her ID badge to it.

"I will show you," she answered, a hint of cheerfulness in her voice. The elevator dropped down with them in it, the numbers going higher. The labs were at the lowest levels and already they were at level fifteen. The elevator began to slow, and when Jill looked up, the light rested on level twenty. The lowest level of this facility. What did they mean to do to her? The doors smoothly slid open to reveal stark white hallways. The brightness of the flourescents, the paint and tile nearly blinded Jill. One good arm went up to shield her eys until they adjusted to the light. The place was sterile and clean. _Too_ clean. The few that remained on the night shift that walked around with clipboards and folders bulging with papers wore lab coats white enough for them to blend in to their surroundings. The hallway was lined with rooms, all fitted with plexiglass windows so one can view was what happening in each and every lab room. Most were closed by the looks of it with equipment shut off and the lights out. She followed the two slowly, her eyes trying to take in everything around her. Wesker's grip pulled her from the stupor though as she faced him and he was pushing her ahead of him to go. They followed the haughty woman in the black dress around a corner and towards a locked door. Another press of that badge and the door unlocked, letting them through. This place scared Jill the most...

The walls were lined with holding cells. Each door was card accessible only, and the door was solid steel that locked in place. Jill recognized the doors were fashioned after the idea of safe doors. The only hint for ventilation of air was five small holes above each door that had fans running. Excella swiped the card and the door slid open silently, revealing a rather plain, and uninviting atmosphere.

"She can stay here for the time being," she explained. Jill grimaced at the small green cot with three blankets and a pillow. These were the sort of cots she slept in when she was in preschool, taking naps...only these were adult sized. A narrow opening to her right showed a metal toilet and sink. No mirrors, no shower stall or anything. Not even a door for privacy. A soft glowing, 50 watt bulb in the ceiling was her only source of light. This was worse than a prison cell. Wesker was looking about and found nothing to indicate possible weakness. The walls were concrete, and the door was reinforced steel. Jill would have a hard time trying to pick her way out of this. It would be satisfactory until they could give her more 'comfortable' quarters...given he would allow that to begin with. Excella simply offered it.

"I want a badge to access her cell. And Excella. I am the only one who may access it. Understood? Even in this condition...she is still a liability," he informed. This woman was the one who worked here, with her own research team and had authority...yet this man was able to tell her what to do and she did it. Jill sat on the cot and watched the two. Excella left first, and Wesker lingered. He cast her a single glance before walking out and the heavy door shut behind him. It was an odd, undescribable feeling seeing him go. The past forty-eight hours she had spent in his presence. Watching him leave made her feel utterly alone. No one could help her or find her and she cried until she fell asleep on the cot.


	4. Looking for Answers

Chapter 4

Looking for Answers

**{September 27th. 10:30 A.M.}**

The cell was dimly lit, and offered some comfort. The warm effect it had on its occupant put them at ease. Their body laid out on the green cot, on their back. It was very quiet here and allowed her some solace. Sleep seemed to be the only thing she ever did. The ride here, the plane trip, even at the hotel, all she seemed to do was sleep through everything. Possibly because her body was so banged up, sleep was the only way it could devote all its energy into repairing wounds. The events the past two days didn't allow her too much of a restful sleep. Being down in the cold, lowest levels of a facility mostly underground did not exactly lull her into a meaningful rest. Worries of what Wesker planned to do plagued her. There were so many guesses, yet nothing to confirm them. The only fact she could believe in was he was not aiming to kill her...unless she did something incredibly stupid...which at this point Jill could not guarantee she wouldn't do. As for Excella...Jill worried about even her. Wesker may be a physical challenge due to his fighting skills, but Excella...she may not be able to kick her ass but she posed a threat. The glare she was given by that high riding woman didn't do anything to make Jill trust her. The way that woman looked at her made Jill want to trust Wesker more. Azure eyes snapped open when she heard a triple beep at her door. The heavy door slide open and Wesker stood there.

A silver tray was being held with something on it. When the tray was set down on her bed, she saw a steaming bowl of stew and a smaller bowl of fresh fruit. She didn't trust this gesture. A gaze of suspicion was fixed on him. He lowered himself to sit on the edge of her cot, making her to impulsively scoot away from him. The tray rested between them both and both remained silent for a long while, neither sure if they ought to say something. Wesker's sincerest wish was for her to eat the meal so he could be on his way.

"You ought to eat to quicken recovery, Jill," he advised. A slender hand pulled the tray closer and she lifted a spoonful of the stew and sniffed at it. Being offered food from an enemy, it was now habitual to sniff it for any trace of poison or drugs. Nothing made her suspicious after a few minutes and she took a bite, finding it to be nothing but simple beef stew. The spoon lowered and took another scoop up and she now ate with more gusto. It pleased him to know she was finally back to a healthy appetite, since food hadn't tempted her much the whole day.

Eating slowed down as Jill started to again, wonder what was to become of her. The bowl of stew was nearly gone and she was morely eating the rest of the thick broth and smaller vegetables. The spoon clanked as she dropped it in the bowl and pushed it to the end of the tray. A nervous glance was shot in Wesker's way who remained still and as statuesque as ever. It'd be her third time trying to get an answer out of him, but it was eating her up to not have a single hint to her fate.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked with a much more calm manner. The last times she had asked, she was effected by emotion and that hadn't helped. If she asked more calmly, maybe he would enlighten her a bit. The silent treatment she received after asking did not give her much hope he would answer the question. Just as she looked down to start on the bowl of fruit, he finally caved in and gave her an answer.

"Truthfully. I do not have a plan for you...yet," he finished. The 'yet' being the optional word, meant he would make plans for her. It could have been anything from experimenting on her, making her into a B.O.W., or just keeping her imprisoned until she grew old and died. The outlook was bleak and depressing, which made Jill want to try a hand at joking at her predictament...if only to make her smile in the face of hell.

" Well...I must say at least, if I hadn't jumped out that window with you, I would never have known how human you could be," she said shyly. A silent moment passed between the two figures before she heard a rumbling chuckle from Wesker. He laughed. Seeing a smile on his face accompanied by that laughter took her by surprise. All her life she never knew this man to smile. Always so stoic, so calm, collected and emotionless...and now he can laugh? Or perhaps...something she said pissed him off and he was only laughing to keep himself from slamming her around the concrete room.

"You never smiled before..." she stated without realizing she was speaking to him. The bowl of fruit was set aside for her and he grabbed the tray. A smile stayed on his lips, but he didn't look at her or say another word to her as he walked out the door. It left Jill confused by his actions and pondering why he would act so strangely...

**{11:50 A.M.}**

Fine, polished nails tapped against the glass table. The mood of the business room was somber, and quiet. Excella was all alone in the room, waiting for Wesker to meet her. He'd promised he would explain the reason he had a woman with him in such a devastated condition and she given him specific directions how to find the room. It was the Vineyard room on a floor that was used primarily for business meetings among the executives and shareholders, and large enough to hold a capacity of one hundred. Just as she was going to leave the room to make sure he had not gotten lost in the facility, the door opened. The sound echoed through the vast room as the man in black approached the long, glass table where she sat. The impatience faded quickly from her face as a warm smile replaced it.

"Ah...no trouble finding the room? I do hope you had a good night's rest too," she asked as she crossed her legs. Wesker sat across the table from her in one of the many vacant, posh chairs. The fidgeting she displayed only proved to Wesker she was desperate for details about what was going on. He'd been very vague about the events after the Spencer estate, only informing her he ran into some "old" trouble over the phone.

"I did rest well. And no trouble finding the room...as I am here, obviously. Now...I did say I would explain. I had told you about my most notable enemies. Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield," he began, getting straight to the point. This was also what Excella liked about this man. There was no beating around the bush, no hindrance in his speech. He was straight forward when he wanted to discuss something, and skipped the normal pleasantries.

"Yes, I remember," she nodded. The story he unfolded for her about their involvement in foiling his plans on multiple occassions had brought the anger out in him, as she heard in his voice. The further he had gotten into his past with them, the more his voice changed and contorted. It was a touchy subject with him.

"Well. The woman you had just met is none other than Ms. Valentine," he said coolly. Green eyes widened at the revelation and she sat straight up, carefully manicured hands splayed on the table. A twitch in the corner of her puffy lips occurred, hinting towards a faint smile.

"So you mean to tell me...one of your most notorious enemies is locked up in my cell down there? I can imagine you are rather pleased to have one of them captured alive," she purred. Excella sat back in her chair as she relaxed. " What do you plan to do with Miss Valentine?"

A moment of silence passed before Wesker answered. " I...am not quite sure. Chris Redfield has caused me the most problems. I want to use her against him. How, I do not exactly have thought out yet. But this brings me to another issue I have considered. Umbrella has a shutdown facility in Africa, near a small town named Kijuju. Apparently, some accident had occurred there...and they shut it down. There is something at that facility I want."

The request caused more questions to raise in Excella's head. For Umbrella to have a facility out in the middle of nowhere...it could only mean it was a facility that manufactured the famed bio-weapons they been caught red handed with producing and selling. From the sound of Wesker's voice, it was not a endeavor he was taking lightly. Something was in that abandoned facility he needed. That was reason enough for her to want to go there with him...but not before she could milk some more information from him about why...and how he came about this intel.

"What did Umbrella have in Africa you so want, Albert?"

A shark-like grin spread across his face as he looked down at the glass table. After looking back up at her, the eyes behind those shades could be glimpsed. Those red hued eyes that were that of a predator.

"...They have the Stairway to the Sun," he said simply. Excella let out a mirthful laugh when he said that. Albert Wesker had come off to her as a man who believed in science, facts and data. The Stairway to the Sun was a fabled plant recorded in Henry's journals, a 72-volume encyclopedia about Africa's wildlife and plantlife. The books recorded some of the natives' folklores and the Stairway of the Sun was a plant the Ndipaya tribe believed to have given them special powers if they could resist its poison. Hardly something she would think Wesker would believe in.

"I have proof it exists, Excella. So...do not insult me with your laughter," he said coldly. The order shut her up as she gazed at him, wondering why he would believe the nonsense...but she would listen.

"As a researcher for Umbrella long ago...we were only given information of the T-virus, and that it derrived from the Progenitor virus...yet, we were not told what made the Progenitor virus. Going through Spencer's belongings, I found some journals in his study that gave all the facts. The Progenitor virus was extracted from the poison in the flower. However...to obtain this flower, they had to take it from the Ndipaya tribe. Umbrella forced them to recede the ancient ruins they kept hidden and thus, Umbrella took control of the flower beds...they cultivated them, and made the Progenitor virus in Africa.  
I want Tricell to know about it. They would surely want to obtain such a facility that holds secrets of their former rivals, thus fund the excavation of the facility. Before that, it would not be a bad idea if you went for CEO for the African Division. That way, we stay in charge of the excavation," he proposed. Nails clicked against the glass as she thought about the idea. Eyes drifted downwards, staring at her French manicured nails, gazing at the light reflecting off the glossy polish. This was often her attitude when she was concentrating hard on a decision.

"I see why you would want us there. We cannot trust anyone to protect those flowers but ourselves. But...the question now is, why do you want them?" she questioned again. Normally, Excella liked flirting with Wesker and trying to appeal to him, but the business pitch he had was being given all her attention. It meant she was interested in more what he had to say.

"...I want to change the world, Excella. Spencer believed the Progenitor virus was the key to this. However, the T-virus that resulted, that was supposed to enhance the human body and prolong their life, failed miserably. I want to start from the source, and perfect it. We will change this world together, Excella. We will bring it to a new age, where one can live longer, can be stronger and better evolved," were Wesker's honeyed words. The words were firm and full of promise. Even the handsome smile he displayed won her over as she finally consented with a nod of her head.

"Well then...I have work to do. I need to convince them to allow me to take up the position of CEO for the African Division. It will only require some intimidation, charm and blackmail here and there. I am confident I will get it," she said with a mischievious smirk. The both of them stood and with Excella's participation, Wesker now knew what he wanted to do. He would employ Excella's researchers to develop more from those flowers and see if he could not perfect the solution Spencer had been searching for his entire life.

" Perhaps...we can continue this discussion over dinner? Say...eight o'clock?" he suggested. The very idea lit Excella's eyes. The two walked from the meeting room and parted ways, as both had their own work to do. Wesker had to tend to his 'prisoner' and Excella had to now set to work on plans how to capture the position of CEO in the African Division. The early stages of his newest grand plan were already in effect, and he was eager to see what he could produce once he got the Stairway of the Sun in his hands.

**{5:45 P.M.}**

Sleep came easier this time. In conclusion with what Wesker said, if he indeed had no plans for her yet, then Jill could rest easy knowing she would just be taken care of until the time came he found use for her. At that point, she could resist and fight back. Broken and battered as she was now, there was no point fighting back anymore. Not until she could regain strength, heal her wounds and give Wesker one hell of a pounding for daring to containher like some animal. The sleep was numbing, her limbs not cooperating and her consciousness slipping deeper into the darkness of deep sleep. It was a pleasing feeling. The moment of peace and rest would not last too long. The door beeped and opened, heavy footsteps approaching her. Jill's eyes did not open, just wanting to believe this was a dream and he was NOT disturbing her a second time.

"Get up," the voice ordered. It was him...and apparently she was not going to be allowed to sleep just yet. Sleepy eyes opened to look up at him and slowly sat up on the canvas cot. A hint of reluctance was displayed, as she was just beginning to enjoy her nap before she was rudely woken. Wesker allowed her to walk out first, rather her to be at his side or in front of him to note any movements she made or anything she might look at.

The two walked down the hallways in silence, the researchers not bothering to stop them. After seeing them walk around with Excella, they deduced they were allowed in the facility and nothing could be done about it. They went to the elevator that had brought them down here and went up a few levels. Jill was struggling, still half asleep, to comprehend where they were headed. The bell chimed at level seventeen...what was level seventeen again? Trying to replay Excella's directions in her head, she simply could not remember. Once the doors opened, she understood. This was the infirmary level. The equipment here would be ten times better than some neosporin and gauze bandages. The rotator cuff was hurting like there were shards of glass in the joint and she hated having to even jostle the arm in the sling. He lead her into a room where an x ray was already warmed up and ready for use.

" Here," he said briskly. A thin, powder blue fabric was handed to her. She recognized it immediately and slanted eyes glared at him. It was a simply hospital gown. Jill fidgeted uneasily and didn't dare want to say what was on her mind...then again, he had seen her nearly naked already when he was tending to her wounds before. However, it still bothered her.

"Can you...turn around?" she asked with a little edge to her voice. As if to humor her, he spun on heel and turned, folding his arms. "You have one minute," he cooly informed. The sweatpants and panties were easy enough to push down, but the shirt was another matter. With the sling in place, and not being able to lift her arm up without sending herself into neverending pain, she struggled with the shirt with one hand. She got as much as her good arm free and was stuck with the shirt around her neck and her injured arm preventing its removal. After a minute, Wesker looked to his watch and sarcastically asked, "Are you done trying to do that alone? Or do you need help?"

Jill fumed at the tone and thrashed a bit. It was not a smart thing to do. She gasped then yelped in pain as she jerked the shoulder and the area exploded with searing pain. Wesker turned and faced her, seeing her near tears in pain. Shaking his head at the situation, he went to help. The sling was carefully removed from her arm. The shirt was slid off carefully, and cast aside. The color of Jill's cheeks were like tomatoes, as he slipped the gown on her and then replaced the sling.

"We will x-ray you first to check your bones," he explained. The machine was powered up and she got on the table, lying flat. The lead vest was placed over her to prevent radiation poisoning and he went to operate the machine. Jill closed her eyes, feeling her heart race. The machine began to x ray her and she tried to stay relaxed. After a while, she was told to get off the machine and wait at the metal table. The x-rays were printed and Wesker put them on a light board. He studied them for a while and deduced his decisions. Jill watched, not seeing any significant breaks in her bones.

"Apparently...three fractured ribs, a torn rotator cuff and a small fracture in your collarbone, nearest to the injured shoulder. The mud and myself...broke your fall so you didn't sustain too much damage," he informed her. Jill narrowed her eyes and replied sarcastically, "Gee, thanks." Wesker stared at her a moment and dropped his arms to his sides.

"You are very unappreciative. I could have left you to rot," he spat. Jill winced and lowered her head. If he had done that then her death would have been futile. Dying for nothing...being alive, she had some kind of chance. Could she be truly mad at him for saving her life?

**{Atlantic Coast of Europe. 7:00 P.M.}**

It was hard to fathom. The very fact Jill could not be found utterly decimated Chris emotionally. She was his partner. They had been through all of Umbrella's nightmares together since S.T.A.R.S. They fought it out and they won. Their chemistry as partners was perfect and when they joined the BSAA they would always go out on missions together. The past three days and three nights, BSAA had scoured the area around the mansion and as far out as ten miles. Tents rested along the chasm walls, housing the agents so they could rest and try again later. For three days and three nights, Chris had not slept. He had not ate. He was always out there searching, calling for Jill. He lead the teams with the dogs out there and went further than most of them dared to go. After three days though, the outlook on discovering Jill was looking more bleak. It was tearing Chris' heart apart and rendering him mentally incapable.

Dunham and Rosebury held Chris' arms back and struggled to keep him under control. He'd gone beserk after lack of sleep and nutrients that his temper was easily provoked. Hearing some people talking about the grim aspects of never finding Jill had set him off like an atomic bomb. The burly guys held him and forced him to sit down. Their chief, Warwick, approached him and sat beside him. The expression he wore was somber and it did nothing to ease Chris' emotions. They all were treating this like it was pointless to even search!

"Chris. You need to cool your jets. Lack of sleep...lack of food...you're onyl torturing yourself! Go back to the States, back to your sister, Claire...I'm sure she is worried," he said sympathetically. "We'll continue the search but...as of now, you are on mandatory vacation," he finished.

Chris eyes were set in a glare as he shrugged his comrades off him. Being put on a forced vacation would not help all the feelings he had inside of him, and the shame he felt that he could not stop Jill from giving her own life to take Wesker down. Not being able to protect her had caused him some lack of faith in his own abilities. If only he had fought smarter...would the outcome had been like this?

"Hey, buddy...if we find her, you'll be the first to call,ok?" Dunham ensured. The words meant nothing as Chris slouched off to his tent, packing up the little things he brought with him. The sack was tied and he slung it over his shoulder as he followed Warwick to a helicopter already warmed and ready for take-off. being sent back caused him even more shame. To not be able to control his emotions like this, was unprofessional and against code. Chris strapped himself in and hung his head as they took off. Things blurred as he felt finally, the blissful touch of sleep overcome him.


	5. Troublesome Women

Chapter 5

Troublesome Women

**{September 28th. 1:20 A.M.}**

It was frigid. The cold, concrete walls offered no comfort or warmth. The draft coming in from those fans provided no heat to stay warm. The only comfort that was in the dim, dreary room was the three blankets lying on the cot. These were all unfolded and lying over Jill's sleeping body. After the redressing of her bandages, and checking all her vitals, she had been informed he wanted blood samples and she was not allowed to eat for the next twenty-four hours. The torture simply wouldn't end. Once she got back to the small cell, she immediately went to the cot to sleep and worn out from the ordeal. She desired just a single scrap of sanity and everywhere she turned to find some, it was met with surreal situations. There was no waking up from this horrible nightmare. In her dreams, she sought for that "safe place" she could go to, where everything made sense and she was free of all the horrors she had been through. Here it was warm and welcoming...it was beautiful.

Jill saw a sunset. Various shades of red and orange filled the sky and sparkled off the top of the ocean. The water was lapping onto the sandy beach gently, washing over her bare feet and giving her a cool sensation. There was the edge of a jungle to her left where she stood, leafy plants and large trunked trees shooting up into the sky. The sound of beautiful, colorful birds filled the air of the tropical atmosphere. At this moment, Jill felt at peace with everything. There was no weight on her shoulders or regrets. Jill never had much stock in religion but she felt this was what Buddhists meant when they said you would reach Nirvana. The feeling was incredible. "Jill! Jiiillll!" called a distant voice. It was familiar. The reverie that Jill had been in was broken as she looked to her right to see someone running towards her. The bulk of the man was familiar too and she tilted her head as she racked her mind.

Why was this person running towards her so familiar for? The short, brown hair, the bulky build...it clicked after a series of realizations from her past. Chris! A jubilant joy struck her and she waved back at him as he came to her. The most happiest smiles were on her lips as she found her friend, her partner at long last. When Chris slowed to a jog to stop in front of her, she expected him to be smiling and taking her in his arms, swinging her about and raving how much he missed her. The moment he stopped and she went to reach for him, she was stopped by the sudden change in his features. Sheer horror changed his happy features and drained him of his color. Jill realized he wasn't staring at her...he was staring at something directly behind her. Something that she hadn't seen or noticed before when she was standing ankle deep in the water.

A strong arm wrapped around her waist. The strength it possessed had first made her think it was a large snake. Feeling the fingertips digging into her side though awoken her to the situation. A hand clamped tightly on her opposite shoulder and she felt trapped. Weighed down and imprisoned. A terrible sadness crossed Jill's features as she stared longingly at Chris, begging him to save her. The hand that had squeezed her shoulder now traveled up her warm throat and tilted her head upwards. From her peripheal glance she saw those ominous sunglasses...the tresses of blonde hair. Terror froze her body.

"Sorry, Chris. But she is mine now," said the blonde assailant. The instant she looked back and reached for Chris, she felt herself being ripped backwards. Bare feet left the ground and small branches and shoots of leaves were smacking her in the back of the head.

The jungle englufed her vision and Chris was no longer there. A darkness settled over her...and the birds were not singing no more. She struggled against the man and after they were so deep in the forest where not even the sunlight could reach, he stopped and righted her on her feet. The grass and moist dirt was cold under her feet. She longed for the beach again and Chris. Jill watched him. The dim sunlight was enough to make her realize who her assailant was...she backed up and bumped into a tree not finding anywhere else to go. It was dark here, and hard to find a path that may lead her to safety. Hands slammed against the tree in back of her, on either side of her face. Red eyes glowed a soft, ember red as he stared at her. The heart began to quicken pace. One step closer. Her palms began to sweat. Two steps closer...he was a mere inch from her face. Those words he spoke so softly upon her own lips sent shivers of fear down her spine.

"You belong to me now, Jill...there is no escape for you," he whispered. The body began to shake uncontrollably, until his hands steadied her. Their closeness brought no comfort to Jill and she felt vulnerable. _No, No, NO, NO! This isn't happening...he isn't in control of me! I cannot be trapped like this! _

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest as he saw the panic in her eyes. "Chris can't save you now."

Cold air ripped into her lungs. the surroundings were vaguely familiar as she woke from the dream. Grey, concrete walls, a constant, freezing draft flowing in and the bareness of the room. Realizing the predicament now, she wondered if she was better off finishing that dream. _NO. Being in a room alone and with nothing but a cot and blankets is better than having _HIM _be that close to me. _The memory was foggy but she pieced it all together again and watched it over and over. Jill sat on the edge of her cot, her eyes staring off into the smooth, grey floor as she studied the dream. It was obvious she wanted to see Chris again but she could not decipher the part about her and Wesker. A dark place where he was in control and she could not escape. Why had she become so petrified with fear that she could not make any attempt to run? What was her heart beating so fast? The heat she had felt from him was enough to make her dizzy...and as she focused on that aspect of the dream, she suddenly felt nauseous. Jill raced to the bathroom and took the rim of the toilet with both hands and puked into it. Anything she ate today was now in the toilet and wasted...and the next twenty-four hours she would have no food. One good arm rested on the rim of the toilet as she groaned and pushed herself up with it. She staggered to the sink and washed herself off, disgusted with herself and the dream.

**{7:09 A.M.}**

It was early morning. The fourth day after the whole incident at Spencer's mansion. Wesker had stayed up all night with Excella. They had gone to dinner and chatted about the plan he laid out for her. More details developed as they brainstormed and figured out how they were going to accomplish this. He'd allow Excella the credit as he ascertained her he wanted his name no part of the pitch. Theoretically, he was supposed to be dead to the world right now. The research of the T-virus was in her hands, along with other information that would help their "cause". They knew the steps they needed to take to get to Africa. Once the restaurant they were dining at closed, they went back to the facility and carried out the rest of their discussions there in the meeting room.

Their plan was concrete by morning. Excella would talk to some choice executives she could persuade. Excella knew how to charm, intimidate and blackmail if it came to it. Considering the facts she had helped Tricell fatten their banks, they took her more seriously. This also meant she had enough power to persuade the executives to her own will. She was a valuable asset to them. Once they figured out how Excella would get the CEO position for the African Division, they moved on to discussing the facility itself.

Being an abandoned Umbrella facility, it held a deep, underground facility equipped for manufacturing the bio-weapons. It also meant they had to have a large capacity to hold all the test subjects that Umbrella ever had for their experiments. Spencer's journals also went on to include facts that the facility had a large area where test subjects were held in cryostasis, labs for the development of the B.O.W.s, and even a manufacturing plant. All it would need is some rehabilitation which he was sure Tricell could afford. Since they would be starting from scratch with the Stairway to the Sun, they would need numerous test subjects...which he was sure the surrounding villages could provide.

Third, the entice Tricell's cooperation, they would need a field test. What better than displaying the usefullness of Las Plagas? It by far had a more successful rating than the T-virus which zombified nearly every victim. The success it had in Spain among the Illuminados was impressive and a reason why he wanted samples of it. Ada may have betrayed him, but he still got what he wanted along the way. It had some disadvantages but it was nothing that a research team could fix. Excella mentioned a man, Ricardo Irving, in one of the divisions who could easily procure some samples for them to work on. While they tricked Tricell into allowing them to use the old Umbrella facility to improve the Las Plagas and test on neighboring towns, they could be doing the Uroboros research.

"Albert, you look exhausted...you could stay at my place and rest up, if you want," she offered. The suggestive tone in her voice and the slinky way she walked towards him left nothing to the imagination what she wanted. Pondering what kind of excuse he could give this woman, he decided on something slightly feasable.

"Unfortunately, I want to wake early and go to the labs. I would like to have a dorm here," he said. The disappointment in Excella's face didn't deter Wesker from his decision. The woman was brilliant, but he was warded off by her incessant clinginess. She briskly waved her hand for him to follow and they went up to the higher levels. It was breaking dawn and most of the workers should have been in their offices. Wesker memorized every place they went, wanting a mental map of the building's layout. Once they got off the elevator she lead him around a corner and to a room labeled "Dorm Manager". With a quick rapping on the glass, a male voice invited her in.

"Jose! How good it is to see you!" Excella gushed as she strolled in with outstretched arms. This Jose gave her a hug then stopped, eyeing the man who following her in. A curt glance was aimed at Excella and Jose could not take his eyes off this blonde man who simlpy walked in. As far as Jose knew, this man was not part of Tricell.

"And who is your friend?" He asked. Excella gave that all-knowing smile and wagged her finger.

" He is a good man and he requires a dorm here. He's a new member to my research team," she explained airily. Jose nodded with uncertainty. The man's aura radiated a feeling that made Jose hate him and fear him. Something about this black clad man was not quite right...but if Excella trusted him and was certain of his aid then he had no choice but to relent. She meant a lot to him and he was good friends with her. Why should he deny a friend when she was normally very good at judging people? Jose sat down and flipped through the room numbers.

"I suppose a suite then?" he asked with a smile. The Italian nodded and Jose picked out a key card for this man. He handed to Excella though, not wanting any remote contact with the blonde. instincts told him he didn't want to be in the same room with him. Excella came around the desk and hugged him again, telling him he should remind her to take him and his wife Marina, out to lunch sometime. Wesker watched with amusement at her actions. The moment she handed him the key card and bid her goodbyes to Jose, they were out the door walking down the hall. Jose watched as they left and there was a strange churning in his stomach about this person Excella brought into their facility.

The room was beautiful. Excella had seen him off to the room and went back to the elevator to go home herself. The key card was slipped into the slot and the light beeped green and unlocked. Wesker walked into the dark room and a hand searched for the light. The light switch was pressed and the lights revealed a comfortable living area. A soft, plush couch, a large screen television, a Parisian rug and fashionable oak shelves containing many books. Though most would have found the living room breathtaking, he simply closed the door and wandered into the next room. As it turned out, it was the kitchen which was not his goal. After going through the kitchen and small dining room, he finally found himself back to where he started. The living room. Seeing the door now on the other side, he went into it and found the spacious bed with more pillows than necessary, and soft, comfortable looking covers. Slowly, he approached the large bed and stood at its end staring at the red and black patterns. The coat and shirt were shed off slowly as he recounted his instances of sleep. He hadn't had a decent sleep the past few days and the exhaustion was starting to get to him. After the shoes were kicked off he fell onto the bed and sighed deeply. The sunglasses were removed and set on the small nightstand, his last movement before lapsing into a deep sleep almost immediately.

**{9:02 A.M.}**

Jill woke after a small, light nap. True sleep was eluding her, fearful she might return to that nightmare again. It forced insomnia on Jill. Seeing Chris had caused her a joy that fleeted just as quickly as it appeared. Feeling herself wrenched away from her partner so forcefully like that and disappearing into a dark, wild jungle with Wesker didn't help.

The whole experience had felt real. The tall stalks of leafy foilage slapping her in the face with its smooth, cool touch was still fresh in her memory. Standing on the marshy, moist ground with her bare feet, feeling the dirt between her toes was still lingering. And worse...feeling, knowing Wesker had been that close to her, his lips nearly upon hers as he reminded her of the situation...his warm breath...Jill shuddered and ran to the bathroom again, dropping to her knees and emptying what little contents her stomach contained. The mere thought of HIM like that induced a sickness she could not control.

It took her a while to recuperate and she got up to splash some water on her face in a trying effort to cleanse herself. Hands rubbed the cold water onto her skin and she sighed in defeat. There was no escape. There was nothing to do as well. No books to read, or anything to watch. Lying on the bed and noting her injured arm made her feel weak. The thought angered her, knowing she had to be stronger than this. She couldn't become a willing play thing of his and do whatever he wanted. Somewhere down the line, she knew he had plans to kill her or dispose of her in some way. Never in her life had she ever dreamed she would be in this kind of predicament. She closed her eyes in an attempt to try and sleep again, only to be disturbed.

In a way, this was the most delightful opportunity to have presented itself since waking up.

It was Excella. Remembering Wesker's expressed orders that only he was allowed into Jill's cell, Jill had given up hope of escaping. If he was the only one allowed, she had no chance to overpower him...even if she had been fully healed. Seeing Excella here made Jill ponder the reasons the woman may have to deceive Wesker...and it presented a great opportunity to escape. The woman clearly was not the type to have practiced in martial arts or any sort of defense. She just might have a chance...

"Good morning, Jill," she said sweetly. Jill might not have trusted Wesker, but she trusted this woman even less. The glossy voice made Jill hesitate as she approached. If she came close enough, would she be able to use enough force with one arm to stun Excella and get out of this place?

"What do you want?" Jill growled. Drawing Excella near to her was something Jill didn't want. The look in those green eyes was unpleasant and she often knew that first instincts were best trusted. She was not here to simply help.

"Just a little 'girl talk' is all. Seeing as we're the only girls. How is that arm of ours?" Excella cooed. This friendly attitude made Jill highly suspicious. As Excella came close, she smoothed her dress and sat down on the small cot.

"I thought Wesker told you only he was supposed to be allowed access here. He didn't want anyone else seeing me," Jill countered, wondering if a reminder of Wesker's warning would persuade the woman to realize what kind of mistake she was making. Green eyes flittered as she laughed and smiled carelessly at Jill. Surely Wesker had warned Excella about what she could do?

"Oh? Being his enemy, what do you care if someone doesn't listen to him?" Excella said. "Besides, I was curious about you. One of the two who have given poor Albert so much trouble."

_Poor Albert? _Albert_? Since when did he ever let anyone use his first name? Even Chris and I do not refer to him by his first name. _A change in her features made Jill wary and on edge. The playful attitude she had exhibited when entering was quickly disappearing. Those emerald orbs snapped back on her again after staring at the cold, grey concete floor.

"He used to be your captain, correct?" She asked suddenly. It was a harmless question and Jill only answered with a single nod. Jill hadn't an idea where this woman was going with the question, but an instinct inside was warning it was not an avenue Jill would wish to venture down.

"What do you know about him, Jill?" came a more serious note. A brow lofted at Excella and her question. Working with Wesker, she should know all she needed. Why was she here asking her these questions? Especially when she was trying to rest and recuperate. It could mean Wesker was not answering questions she wanted answers to. Personal questions, which Jill would not even know.

"Other than he is a conniving, lying snake? He betrayed me, Chris and the rest of S.T.A.R.S., even betraying Umbrella, which he used to work for. He is a power hungry fiend, that's it. And eventually he will betray you," she warned. The warning she gave went by unnoticed. The woman was a lost cause and Jill pitied what may happen to her. That woman's plastic looking face stared at her for the longest time before the slender shoulders shrugged. Folding her legs, she tilted her head.

" You never had any romantic interest in him?" she asked innocently. The question made Jill balk at her, and vividly reminded her of that pesky dream. Jill gagged and shook her head violently, protesting such a thing. She couldn't look Excella in the face after such a question. Perhaps she had admiration for him when he was captain, before he betrayed them all...whatever budding attraction she may have had died instantly the moment she realized who he was working for, and what those people were covering up. "Of course not!" Jill managed to say.

"Hm, did you ever have any thoughts before you knew he worked for Umbrella? Any attraction?" she further pressed. Jill could say this was true. Maybe it was not the lecherous way Excella was thinking, but there was an attraction. It was how collected Wesker was during pressing situations and never rattled easily. He seemed seasoned enough to never freak out, and made quick but accurate decisions in the heat of the moment. The hesitance to answer the question steeled the current attitude Excella presented. With no response coming, Excella reached over and gripped a clump of Jill's hair in her hand. A painful jerk forced Jill to face her and stole a cry from her throat.

"I asked you a question, you silly girl. Did you?" she demanded. The question was the least of Jill's worries as the pain seeped from her scalp down her back. She was not accustomed to this kind of pain nor would she tolerate it much longer. If this had been Wesker, she would still put up a fight but knowing in the end she would lose. This though, this was fury at this woman for daring to touch her and treat her like this. She was completely oblivious to everything. While Jill and Wesker knew one another and this dated back to S.T.A.R.S., this woman was new to the scene. For her to comprehend everything Wesker was would blow a circuit in her mind. This was what angered her. Jill balled her fist up and ignoring all pain, punched Excella in the face as hard as possible. Excella stumbled back and fell to her knees, clasping a hand over her bloody nose in horror. Jill staggered to her and ripped the ID badge off her dress and forced herself to run.

Jill ran as quick as her legs would allow. Past startled researchers, through doors with Excella's badge and remembering her way to the elevator that brought her down here in the first place. She had no idea where the stairs might be and was hoping time would be given enough for her to reach the top floor with the elevator. This would be the quickest route. The moment the elevator doors began to close however, Jill heard the alarms sounding and resonating through the white hallway. How long would it take their people to respond to alarms like this? The elevator began to go up but not as fast as Jill would have liked. Every second counted. This plan of escape was not very well thought out but it was her best shot. As the numbers kept getting closer to one, she allowed herself to hope that they would not stop operation of the elevators in the facility. She was passing up the infirmary levels now...and then, she fell back down to the floor. The elevator car jolted to a screeching halt.

The bright lights flickered out and emergency, red hued lights turned on. Jill stood up warily, her arm bracing herself against the side of the elevator. The sound of something heavy hit the elevator and caused it to jostle. It made her fear the cables might snap and she would fall floors down the shaft and die. The sound of metal being ripped away caused her to look up. The ceiling panel was being ripped clean away and something black dropped into the elevator with her. When he stood up, her eyes widened in fear.

" Jill. Your futile attempts to escape will not be tolerated. Do you remember what I told you I would do if you ever tried escaping again?" he warned angrily.

It didn't factor into Jill's plan that Wesker might be the one to catch her. Fear seized her body as she watched him approach her. There was nowhere to run in this little space. Jill found herself hoisted by her neck into the air and slammed into the side of the elevator. A bandaged hand clawed at his hold as she choked and spluttered. Legs kicked out uselessly as he held her there, staring up at her twisted face. Those eyes, wide with fear and desperation, stared down at him. This was only Wesker keeping good on his promise of pain if she ever dared to try and escape again. It seemed she took the threat too lightly and had no regard for it. This little 'session' he hoped, would enlighten her to the fact he didn't make that threat to only scare her. With an angry growl he threw her across the small space and into the other side. The metal wall dented upon the impact of Jill's body as she crashed to the floor in pain. As Jill fumbled to push herself up with one arm and was forced back down after receiving a boot to the side of her face. The same boot stepped down with force on her skull that she was crying out from the intense pain. Everything inside her cranium was beginning to throb from the pressure.

" You owe me your _life_, Jill," he growled angrily. "And you continue to act like an ungrateful child!" The pressure was taken off her head but now a new pain was being focused on. Jill could hear how deep the boot sunk into her stomach from the kick. The force made her curl into a fetal position as everything was becoming distorted in her vision. The ability to breathe was lost, the air knocked right from her lungs. Wesker turned her onto her back and stared down at the woman gasping for breath before stomping on her chest. Further injury was done to her ribs as tears began to streak her face. The inability to breathe or talk was preventing her from begging him to stop this assault. A kick landed square in her face and caused her nose to bleed. She had felt the crack of the small bone there and somehow, she found her voice as pain riddled her body. She choked out her plea in hopes he would stop. Her good hand landed on his boot, grasping it tightly and looking up to him.

"Please! Please...stop...I'm sorry..." she cried out. All assaults stopped as he knelt down by her and took her bleeding face into his gloved hand. He tilted her head up by her jaw tenderly, watching her tearful eyes stare at him and her bottom lip quivering. Blood ran down thickly from one nostril and already some bruises were forming on the side of her face. It was a pitiful sight. He sighed gently and moved his thumb over her lips to remove the blood. His hand was tender at the moment as he tilted his head while looking at her. It took Jill by surprise the simplistic action he done, that she could not tear her head away from his touch and look away. Now he had time to think after battling through his rage, he wondered...just how did she get out?

"How did you escape, Jill?" he asked with a firm voice. Jill's eyes hardened and she jerked her head from his touch, glaring at the bloodied floor. It seemed she didn't want to tell him and he was about to ask again when her head snapped back at him and her eyes met his with fury.

"Excella. She came in wanting to..." she trailed off. Brown brows narrowed as she looked down at his hand again, smudged with her warm blood. Telling him about Excella's disobedience would possibly drive a wedge between the two. It would make him lost trust in her and possibly end their sordid affair concerning bioweapons, Umbrella and himself. That would also result in his possible flee from Tricell and Excella with her being dragged along for the ride.

" To?" He continued. Shaking her head and not seeing anything good coming out of either situation, she decided to tell him.

" To question me what I know about you...if I had ever had...any...romantic interest...in you, " she gritted out angrily. For the woman to even insinuate that Jill might have been remotely romantically involved with Wesker was making her sick to her stomach again. After the two instances earlier, there was nothing in her stomach to empty and she choked down the ill feeling rising up in her. Jill continued to stare at the bloody glove on Wesker's hand, not wanting to look him in the face after saying such an embarrassing thing. A long silence rested among the two enemies before Wesker said something softly.

"I see," he said. She glanced up at his visage and noted the certain creases and the edge in his voice. He was completely furious with Excella.


	6. The Infirmary

Chapter 6

The Infirmary

**{9:25 A.M.}**

His heavy boots reverberated off the bright walls as he walked down to the main infirmary. The woman's figure rested in his arms, still and unmoving. Eyes were hardened as she stared at nothing in particular, his clothing being in front of her. She stared down into the seams, the threads weaving in and out to form the fabric itself. Hands rested in her lap as she said nothing to him, feeling the small jostle of each step he took. The arm her head rested against was hard, and warm, almost soothing had it not been Wesker's. The fact remained this man carrying her to an infirmary to treat her newly acquired injuries were caused by his own hand. The silence between them was thick, and uncomfortable. A second glance towards his face revealed nothing. Those damned sunglasses were as much a part of him as was his own skin and hair. The set place of his features let on to nothing. Jill's soft, blue eyes closed as she breathed a painful sigh. As they drew closer to the infirmary, the two of them heard shouting. A shrill, furious voice. Wesker looked down at Jill a moment before entering the main infirmary room. The woman's eyes opened slowly to answer his gaze.

" What did you do to her?" he asked. The tone of his voice didn't sound angry or worrisome, but she swore she caught the sound of amusement. A stubborn streak crossed Jill and part of her was desiring to tell him exactly what she done to that brunette bitch. The first impulse won the decision and she growled at him, "I broke her nose, that's what." The man looked up thoughtfully and said nothing more to his enemy who lay in his arms. Pressing a button at the side of the door, it swished open quickly and the noise inside instantly got louder.

The loud, shrill voice of Excella's was painful on the ears. Doctors were holding bloodied gauze and instruments as she continued to berate them. The anger was truly misplaced onto the doctors. The Italian woman prided herself on her beauty and intelligence. One of those attributes was now marred by a swollen, broken nose. The cost for the surgery to fix the mess didn't matter to Excella, but being outdone by some delinquient woman who didn't possess the classic beauty she did, pissed her off. Eyes turned to the figure in the doorway and instantly her green eyes widened and white hot fury burnt through every vein. Seeing _him _holding _her_ rubbed a possessive nerve inside she was about to lash out at the woman and Wesker, he spoke first with such an deep, steeled voice, that it eradicated the most of her rage.

" This is why I wanted access to her limited only to me," he growled. Excella hadn't realized that Wesker's request had nothing to do with Jill being anything to him, sentimental or not. It had to do with security. It was a security measure he wanted to take because he knew the woman far too well to trust anyone else would be able to endure against her and the stubborn fight that lie within. Jill was no threat against himself, her being ridiculously outmatched by his speed, strength and agility. Anyone else that had no combat training however, ones like Excella, could not be able to perceive the strength she could still possess despite the weakened state she remained in. They were lucky the security staff acted so quickly on the breach and contained Jill.

Excella slipped off the cold, metal table and approached the two. Wesker set Jill down on a table carefully and at the click of Excella's shoes, he spun around to stand between the two women. His partner was out for blood and he was not about to let her have it. Seeing that Wesker was not going to move to allow her passageway to Jill, her eyes hardened into a glare right into Wesker's own eyes. The look directed at her was asking what she wanted now and Excella could think of only one thing.

"She has my ID badge," she hissed. The man turned to Jill behind him and cast her a glare. It soured Jill's face but she reached into the sling and handed the card over. It would have been her only key to get past all the securities of this place and out. It was akin to handing over the very key to rid one of their shackles. Excella ripped it out of Wesker's hand and marched over to the doctors to have herself fixed up. She would have to leave for a plastic surgeon later on after the swelling and bleeding stopped. A doctor who was white as his own coat was waved over by Wesker. It was a relief to the man who did not want to deal with the furious Excella. Seeing the second bloodied and bruised woman and the more quiet and docile disposition of her, calmed the doctor. This patient would be more easier to work with than one who was flailing and cursing people.

"She has re-opened wounds, perhaps damage to her ribs and abdomen. I fear possibly a broken nose and fractured jaw too," Wesker assessed for the doctor. The gray haired man nodded grimly and began to tend to Jill. Blood was blotted away with cotton and gauze, and a warm cloth rubbing away the excess blood that had dried on her skin. Wesker took a seat on a small stool and folded his arms as he watched. The doctor would have to prepare her for more x-rays and treat her wounds which would take nearly an hour. The team of doctors on the other side of the room finished up with Excella who was rushing to get out.

**{10:20 A.M.}**

It was nearly an hour before the doctors were done with Jill. Poking and prodding her, washing down the blood and treating the open wounds, preparing her for x-ray and studying her skeleton, and re-dressing the bandages had been exhausting for the doctors. Their patient did not protest or speak to them and it made it all the easier to complete their work. The doctor who had approached them first wiped his hands on a snow white towel and looked to Wesker. " She is...fine for the most part. No broken bones. The ribs are badly fractured, but that is about it. No internal bleeding, and her nose will heal well as long as its taken care of," the doctor assessed. The was a moment of silence before he stood and approached Jill.

" Good enough," he commented. Carefully he slipped arms under her legs and torso and carried her off to her hole in the lowest level. No protest and no words came from her as he carried her to the elevator and leaned to the panel to press a button for the last level. The familiar sensation of her stomach somersaulting didn't ease Jill's condition. It only reminded her that she hadn't ate because Wesker wanted blood tests done...and before there was a chance to take her blood and feed her, she tried to escape. This time would be different. She refused to let Wesker know she was hungry, still upset about her failed escape plan and his 'punishment' for trying. The pain she had been in was going away with each passing minute, thanks to the merciful doctors who given her some strong pain medication. Wesker didn't seem to bother covering that area of her care, her comfortability.

As they exited, Jill noticed this hallway was more...furnished. Warmer. The atmosphere was more welcoming and there were no tones of whites or grays. The walls were a deep, dark red with patterns of golden flowers. The floor was carpeted with the same color of red and golden oak baseboards lined the way. A doctor or two walked down the hall, in their labcoats and possibly on their way down to the research levels. The few they did pass kept their eyes downcast, not bothering to meet the gaze of Wesker. Already stories had circulated within the hour of his speed and power as he raced to the elevator, shimmied down it and ripped open the ceiling panel to get the escapee. The dents and bent metal panel were proof of the man's strength and they all were beginning to doubt his "humanity"; something he mimicked but was far from. He came to a stop in front of an unfamiliar door that required a key card to open. A beep and green light permitted access and he walked in. It dawned on her suddenly. Excella brought them to the cell to begin with, with the only access card to it. Since she had not granted Wesker one yet and she got her badge back, there was no key to that cold, concrete hellhole. Jill was mortified at the option Wesker was taking.

" You will stay here since I cannot trust Excella to let you be. Also, the door locks from the inside. There is no way to lockpick it...and if you try escaping again, I will wake...and we will have to take another trip to the infirmary," he informed and set her on the lounge chair. The terror in her eyes didn't go unnoticed. The aspect of being locked in a room alone with Wesker again was far worse than the small cot in that concrete cell. The threat he made affirmed Jill she would not try escaping...but maybe try killing him in his sleep.

" You're making me lose a lot of sleep, Jill," he muttered as he sat on a chair and kicked off the boots. Eyes watched him warily, as she stayed in her seat. The shirt was unzipped and thrown onto the chair's back. Ruby eyes met hers and one of his blonde brows perked. "Can you walk?" he asked. Jill didn't want to say anything and forced herself to nod. Being carried around again by him would be more than she could handle. That closeness was sickening to her. She forced herself up and stood there, wondering why he wanted to know. As he stood, he waved her along.

"Follow me. You're to remain in this room," he said. A moment's second she had protested but found it would be stupid to resist anymore. The beating she received for trying to escape kept her hesitant about pushing the envelope with him. Gritting her teeth and going along with this, she followed him through the place and into a large chamber of a room, where there was a bed. Forgetting about him at the moment, she marveled at how nice these rooms Excella had called 'dorms' were. If Excella had considered these dorms, than Jill could only imagine what kind of grandeur palace that aristocratic bitch may have. The bed was large and in the center of the room. The covers had slight ruffles in them and she deduced her escape might have woken him. The beating she received was probably more out of his frustration of being tired. She sat down in a chair as he turned off the light. The room was dark except for the beacon of light on the nightstand. Being underground meant a lack of windows, and natural light. Wesker said nothing to her as he approached the bed and climbed in, thoroughly exhausted. Knowing he had caught her at the hotel and this time, meant he must have been a real light sleeper. There seemed to be no hope. The only thing Jill was satisfied with was she broke that bitch's nose. The escape plan failed but she at least accomplished something she wanted to do since meeting the woman.

_I never felt such exhaustion as today. Lack of sleep and dealing with Jill's futile attempts to escape had robbed me of my last bit of energy. As well as Excella's disobedience is weighing on me. My only thought as to why Excella would feel threatened by Jill, enough to go to her room and demand what she knew of me, is because Jill has known me longer. The interest Excella has in me is to suit her own needs, and fantasies. Another woman seems to present a challenge...perhaps if I encourage Excella, who is about class, that it is a waste to compete with someone who is beneath her in all aspects. All I would have to do is compliment her beauty, intelligence and grace and insist Jill has nothing comparable. It'd be a lie of course...Jill's stubbornness has presented many problems in my life. The endurance and will to survive had never failed her. It makes me smile to think that little, broken Jill still had enough fight in her to leap up and break Excella's nose. He continued ferocity continues to astound me._

No dreams had come to haunt the mind. No teasing nightmares to further the fear and pain. Nothing was conjured while Jill slept in the seat she was sat in. She'd watch that monster get into his bed and fall asleep and thought of all the things she could have done to kill him. Breaking a vase over his head. Finding a knife in the kitchenette and stabbing him. Bashing his head in with the back of a toilet. The vulnerable state he was in provided many oppotunities to attack while he was off guard. _But is he really offguard? He knew I tried escaping the hotel when I thought he was asleep. The alarms when I tried to escape a while ago must have woke him. Would he know if I just walked out of the room to go to the kitchen? _Jill hated being caught. Here she was allowed to be around him. No restraints and no one watching her. Not locked up in a cell. Nothing stood between the two but open space and still, she knew if she tried attacking, she would enter a new world of pain for trying. No visible shackles, yet she was bound. The depression caused her to curl up on the large chair and sleep, wanting to always try and wake up out of this place, wanting to believe it was not real.

**{6:00 P.M.}**

It didn't seem long into her sleep she was disturbed. A hand was shaking her shoulder gently. A soft murmur escaped her lips in annoyance, wanting to be left alone. He was persistent. She opened her eyes to see Wesker kneeling there, dressed and staring at her from behind those sunglasses. "Time for your blood tests," he said. Nothing was said as she forced herself up and brushed past him to leave, still half-asleep and wishing to get back to it. It still had not been twenty-four hours as Wesker would have liked, but he felt he needed to get the blood work done...before anymore problems presented themselves.

The table was cold. Not long ago she had been sitting here being fixed up by the nice doctors. Wesker moved about to collecte the syringes and supplies in complete silence. Eyes stayed narrowed on him, desiring nothing more than to beat this man down into the cold floor. As he pulled the black gloves off to use the rubber ones the doctors did, she was caught offguard again. Seeing his hands was unusual, as he always wore gloves. Smooth skin, and strong. The thought was thrust violently from her head. All of these occurrences with him that always struck her as unusual had the ability to stop her focus. It was maddening.

Wesker stood by her and forced her to hold out her good arm. A spot near the inner elbow was rubbed with alcohol to cleanse it before he inserted the thick gauged needle. It made her wince at the pinching sensation traveled up her nerves. The tube was attached to a small glass vial, and a small plunger was in the middle to draw the blood out and into the vial. The plunger was pulled up and she watched as the thick, red liquid left her body and emptied into the clear vial. Three of these were filled up by time he was done. Why did he want to study her blood in the first place? A cotton ball was placed over the needle's entrance as he swiftly pulled it out and applied pressure. One hand reached for a drawer and pulled it open, taking out a single bandaid that was placed over the cotton ball to prevent unecessary bleeding. While Jill had been watching him like a hawk this entire time, she noted something. Throughout this whole procedure, he would not look her in the face. Why was he avoiding her when he was so adamant about causing her pain and suffering? Would he not like to see how much this all bothered her and laugh about it?

"Something wrong?" she asked angrily. The question stopped Wesker in his tracks and with a soft sigh, he placed both hands on the table, either side of her. It trapped Jill on the table, nowhere to go. a moment of silence passed before he tilted his head to look at her face and said a single word. "Nothing." The two now stared into one another's eyes, challenging the other. She always had a defiant streak in her.

" What is bothering you?" he asked. Teeth gritted together in fury as she managed to bite back the outlash she was about to hand to him.

"Nothing," she retorted, the same answer he had given her. The two continued the staredown, neither wanting to lose this battle. It seemed they reached a standstill, until Wesker decided to broach on the subject of their little dispute in the elevator.

" Are you still pouting about the incident earlier between us?" he asked. Jill thought about it. Really, she had been in a lot of fights with Wesker and gotten tossed around. It never bothered her. She always dusted herself off and got back up for more. Failing to escape put a damper on her mood indefinitely, but it was not the true reason it seemed as to why she was so aggravated. The fact that Excella had dared to insinuate Jill would know Wesker intimately, in ways Excella grotesquely wished to know him, bothered her. It made her insides ache in pain to think of him...in such ways. As if her dream hadn't angered her enough.

" Perhaps what's bothering me...is your girlfriend daring to insinuate...I'd EVER...to even THINK I'd have _anything_ to do with you..." Jill rambled. Wesker caught the hint though and knew what she was aiming at. It disgusted his former comrade to think of him in such ways and after what he had done to them all, he could not blame her. All the betrayals had gotten to them, and he hated her and Chris for always interfering with anything he was doing. Once Jill quieted, he decided to amuse himself by making her fluster.

"What makes you think she is my girlfriend?" he asked curiously. It was a moment before Jill thought of something to say. A sigh left her lips as she looked down with furrowed brows and came up with the only answer that seemed to make sense.

"You both seem close is all..." Jill kept her face downcast and Wesker saw a chance to truly cause her some embarassment. He leaned in slowly, until his head was an inch from hers, until he could feel the warmth of her skin radiating off her. Tension seized her body as she felt him so dangerously close to her. It was a hard challenge to regulate her breathing so she didn't appear bothered by him.

"Why would you care if she is, or isn't, Jill?" he asked her. The question made her eyes shoot open and she snapped her head around to stare at him. She moved her mouth to speak but found no words came out. Those cat-like eyes were visible when she was this close with him and she saw a twinkle of amusement in their depths. There was no comeback for that question, nothing insulting. The question was the checkmate of their little game and he had emerged victorious. To think she would care to even ask about them...why did she care if this woman was pining for her former captain and arch rival?


	7. Playing Games

Chapter 7  
Playing Games

**{6:20 P.M.}**

The walk back to the dorm room was agonizing with each step. The pain was not the culprit for causing the nervous agony and nausea she felt. One step further was closer to being somewhere alone with her enemy, defenseless and completely vulnerable. The condition she was in robbed her of the ability to fight effeciently against him. All she could do was walk the narrow hallway at his side and choke down the ill feeling in her stomach. Knowing she was heading back to a room with him, being babysat because she couldn't be trusted to try and escape, crushed her hopes of ever getting out of this nightmare. Jill was not the only one bothered by this situation. The aggravation Wesker harbored for the incident was clear on his features. A strong arm shoved her into the room the moment the door opened and then slammed closed.

" Sit on the loveseat and stay there," he ordered. Eyes narrowed at the tone of his voice but she obeyed. She crossed the large living room and sat down on the plush red loveseat, willing her stomach to calm down. The three lamps in the room flicked on with a single switch on the wall. The soft tone of the light made the room cozy and welcoming. The red suede couch was soft, and the carpet stretched out across the living room floor was done in all warm colors over dark, oak wood floors. The towering shelves held so many books that surrounded the living room area. Jill might have found this place a relaxing retreat if she hadn't seen her captor crossing the room and going to put wood in the fireplace. It was a bit nippy in the room and guessing that because they were hundreds of feet below the surface, it would naturally be very cool. The chill was beginning to raise some goosebumps on her skin and settled when the wood began to crackle and become consumed by the small fire underneath it. Jill brought her feet up on the loveseat and laid down carefully. She faced away from Wesker and sighed, wishing this would all end. As her eyes closed, she fell into a light sleep, allowing her body rest after having blood taken from her and the incident earlier.

**{7:00 P.M.}**

Something aroused her senses. A mysterious scent was invading her and bringing her out of the silent slumber she was in. The sound of the wood popping in the fire was the only, occasional sound in the vast room. The scent waking her was not the burning wood. It was food. Jill sat up and moved herself to face the fireplace and table. On the couch was Wesker, lounging there and reading the same battered looking volume he had on the plane. The plate of food was sitting on the table, steam rising from it. It hadn't been there for too long if it was still hot. Legs swung off the loveseat carefully as she stared at the steaming plate of meat cut up and in a brown sauce, with creamy mashed potatoes with cheese. It was a nice plate but the defiance she felt Wesker deserved still ran in her veins. No matter how tempting it was to eat. Sight was redirected to the fire in the fireplace, licking at the air in bright colors of reds, oranges and yellows. The smooth edges of the fire went through the chimney and she wondered how they designed these dorms to have such a way to channel the smoke out of the underground area. Whoever designed the place then was genius if so. Still, the fare off stare of her glazed eyes caught his attention.

" I know you hate this situation, but there is no sense in starving yourself. Eat your food," he informed her. The body's natural instinct to eat for nourishment won out with the battle and she picked the fork up, poking at the food in the thick, brown sauce. A piece of meat was speared by the silver fork and brought to her lips. A short pause allowed her to sniff at the bite and she savored the smell of the cooked beef tip. She ate the piece and chewed the tender, delicious bite, taking her time. She didn't want to appear too eager to return to a normal appetite. She took bites and poked at the food. While it was truly a delicious plate, it was offset by the anxiety she felt being trapped. Glancing to him again she noticed the tattered book again. Curiosity rose as she questioned why he was absorbed with this ancient looking book. It did not appear to be of any significance, but then Wesker was not the sort of man to read or do anything without reason. What purpose and information did that volume hold that was obviously important enough to study so intensely? No matter how deeply involved he seemed with the old book, he still noticed the subtle signs of curiosity that Jill expressed. It provided a source of entertainment for him.

"You want to know what this is, don't you?" he asked her, closing the book and keeping one finger on the spot he was reading. Jill averted her eyes away, narrowing them at the fire and trying to ignore him. The man's fiery eyes bore onto her and she felt them. It made her felt compelled to answer him. "No, "she replied shortly. A short pause passed by before a single, harsh word crossed the room to her.

"Liar," he retorted. Despite the insult, she still refused to lift her eyes to face him. Every bit of will was telling her to not look at him and continue to focus on anything else. What he said next though was too shocking to keep her head down.

" This may have been something crucial for you and Chris to see. It holds every secret of Umbrella. It's true history told in first person... it's one of Spencer's journals," he said. The tidbit of information was enough to make Jill snap her head up and stare at him in disbelief. While the BSAA had all kinds of facts and information incriminating Umbrella, and mapping the atrocities they commited, to have the CEO behind it all writing all his thoughts about the crimes and his feelings towards it, would be comparable to finding the Lost Ark. Suspicion then settled in after Jill processed everything he said. Why was he choosing to tell her this?

"Why are you telling me about this, Wesker?" she growled. A corner of his thin lips curved into a smug, arrogant smile as he stared at her.

"Because I know it tortures you," was his answer. This was indeed very accurate. Jill had such a loathing for Umbrella, and any companies like it...she wanted to know everything that book contained. The book snapped shut as he stood and she watched him leave the room to the bedroom. the door closed with a soft click and she breathed a sigh of relief. The man had left her to herself and she now found the food more appetizing and ate at a normal pace. While the concrete cell Excella had lovingly picked out for her was cold and gloomy, she now longed for it. At least there, Wesker's presence was not as constant. In retrospect of her attempt at escaping the facility, it was truly a stupid idea. The levels, the many researchers and security, she probably would have never made it to the gates, if she even made it to the ground level. All thought of where they were, Wesker and consequences had fled her mind when that bitch grabbed her hair. Jill had lost her sanity in that instant and was kicked into survival mode.

Wesker's gloved hand rested on the polished nightstand, after hiding the precious journal behind it. The ideals Spencer elaborated on in the journal was causing Wesker to consider them seriously. The main one which he was living proof of...the forced evolution of humanity through viruses. At first glance it seems impossible.

Viruses made of all the RNA and proteins infect hosts with intent to cause harm, not to evolve people. It cares not what destruction it causes,only focused on self preservation. Yet when a virus is beaten by the body's immune system, strong antibodies always are made to combat the virus from coming again. Engineering viruses to be compatiable with a person's DNA to be read as an antibody could be key. All antibodies had a strain or memorized form of the virus for them to even exist. Or if they could get the RNA to be accepted into the DNA strands without resistance. Studying his own blood yielded many answers to all his theories. If there were others such as himself out there, with the right strains of DNA to be chosen to evolve, should they all be modeled after himself? Him, the new god leader of the new race to be ushered into the new dawn of an era? If so, how?

The T-virus was indeed capable...but it was too selective. Finding the plant that started it all, the flower mentioned in Spencer's journals that the Progenitor Virus was derrived from, was the ultimate key. They could start from scratch, and develop something even more stronger and enhanced. Plans had already been made to set out to Africa and recover the old Umbrella facility. Excella had agreed to the plans, and would work to get the position needed to give them ultimate control of the area. In the meantime...what could they do with Jill?

The plate rested on the glass table, empty of the contents on it. No water remained in the beautiful glass that stood beside the plate. Every morsel of food had been consumed. With a full stomach and no "guard" standing around to have an eye on her, Jill considered her options staying in his room. It had a kitchen, which she was sure a variety of cooking utensils were stored...including knives. It would be possibly the best bet of a weapon in this dorm. Yet even if she were to arm herself and prepare to attack Wesker, what good would it do? Without all the injuries, she was still not enough to match Wesker's stength and speed. With an arm in a sling and fractured bones, she posed even less of a threat no matter how armed she was. It was a bleak outlook, no matter how many different ways she tried to see it. All she could do is go with the overpowering flow and hope for Chris and them to find her in time. A defeated sigh fell from her lips as she laid down on the smaller couch and curled up into a ball. Her eyes shut, wanting to wish this whole thing away as she drifted off into sleep.

**{7:23 P.M.}**

Wesker walked back into the living room area and didn't see Jill sitting up on the loveseat. The firewood was burning down to its last embers in the fireplace, and he could see the plate of food was cleared. As he approached, he did so with caution, not sure whether or not she would attack him again. She was a resilient kind of woman, stubborn and hard to break. As he came to the loveseat's side, he saw her form curled up and resting. Maybe she had given up this time, but he didn't expect this to last long. Given her surroundings; a kitchen with knives and other sharp utensils, the ability to make fires and glass, many opportunities presented itself where a weapon could be used. Jill Valentine was too stubborn to give up, and smart enough only to give up until she came up with a plan. She would retaliate again once she got her bearings. The day had been an exhausting event for the both of them. The fire was going out and it was chilly down this far in the levels. Ripping a blanket off the back of the loveseat, he unfolded it and laid it over her...his only act of kindness before he left the dorm and facility.

**{7:46 P.M.}**

The phone chimed repeatedly before Excella decided to answer it. There'd been no sleep since yesterday, and the anestesia given to her when she went to have her nose fixed didn't count as sleep. Anger still occupied her focus, as she remembered being bested by that unscrupulous woman Wesker brought back with him. The thought of her getting a rabbit punch on her infuriated Excella. Besides the fact her perfectly formed face was now ruined for the time being. There was no way to show her face in public until the nose's bruising and swelling went down. This anger resulted in the shattering of some valuable vases that rested in her mansion's foyer. Angry feet were stomping upstairs from the resulting damage as she answered the phone and was surprised to hear Wesker's voice, but it didn't lessen the fury she felt. The way he shielded that bitch away from her had only added to the fire.

"And what do you want?" she demanded over the phone, before Wesker could even get a word in.

"Well now...if the lady is going to have that kind of attitude, I won't propose to bring dinner to her and enjoy the evening in good company," Wesker mused. The ideal of Wesker bringing dinner to her, and insinuating they spend the evening together had eradicated any inkling of rage. It had been halted in its tracks and disappeared quickly. It had stunned her and she had to force her voice to speak again.

"...Wh-what did you say, Albert?"

"I said...I was thinking of bringing dinner to you and spending time with you this evening. After you give me the address and tell me what you want...maybe we could discuss business too. I have an idea where to start on our project," he added. This was just what Excella needed. A man who would cater to her and bring her whatever she wanted. A smile curved into her soft lips as she now pranced up the stairs to her room, thinking of what she would want to eat for dinner. She had been neglecting her appetite lately.

"436 Prima lane. And pasta ziti with bruschetta...what made you want to do this, Albert?" she cooed, falling back into her normal attitude, only expressed around him. A soft chuckle rolled over the phone that made her shiver in delight. She did love his voice. As she came into her room she was desperately looking for a beautiful dress to wear, maybe something more French, as to wear the hat with a light veil to take attention away from her nose.

"Well, why not want to spend some time with someone of my intellect, Excella? I do enjoy company of those who are of intelligence and beauty," he complimented. A haughty, playful laugh echoed over the phone in response. Apparently she was quick to forgive him. Obtaining the address was not hard at all, nor was calming her down. The only plan now was to find a way to flatter her enough to where she snubbed Jill instead of seeing her as a possible threat. Both girls could be considered "alpha females", the ones who are strong willed, intelligent and are the leaders of the pack and despise competition.

"Well then, I'll see you soon, Albert," she sweetly murmured before hanging up. The payphone was settled back into the cradle as he walked from the booth and down the street. He'd have to pick a phone up for himself soon, and orchestrate all the moves from here on. Excella indeed was booksmart. Intelligent and had a good sense of business on her...but she was oblivious to when others were playing with her emotions. It was apparent she played the same game before, but couldn't recognize the signs of when she was the one being played. It was a pity on her end. She'd been pining for his attention since she 'rescued' him and Jill and now, he could give her that. Jill was a personal vendetta that he refuted to let outside influences deviate him from. While he would play the flirting game and gain her trust, he had his boundries he could not cross, that involving anything sexual. While he could still feel those sorts of urges, he maintained such trivial things under his control. It would also complicate the matters at hand. If she was desperate for that experience with him, he would hang it over her head and see how high she could jump for it. He crossed the street to a beautiful, authentic restaurant and made orders for food, paying in the amount of cash he had on him. He waited for a while on the food before it was finished, and he moved on to find Excella's place, a plan already finalized in his head about how he would go in exterminating the woman's curiosity about Jill and her past with him.

**{8:25 P.M.}**

The mansion was gorgeous. Done in white stucco outsiding, with an elegant brick pavement and meticulously manicured front lawn and flower beds. Vibrant colors of purples, reds, whites and yellows grew from the flower beds into stunning, living art. The wrought iron gates that were showing some signs of age only added to the old, traditional beauty of the place. It was idyllic for anyone with no limit of money. As he made his way up the red bricked roadway, he came to the door and knocked on it twice. An aged butler opened the door and looked at the strapping man with grey eyes. The butler only nodded and gave a weak smile.

"Mr. Wesker, I presume?" he asked kindly. A simple nod confirmed the older man's question and he was welcomed in with a sweeping hand gesture. The bag of warm food was set on a long table against the wall in the foyer. Seeing the maid doing her duties cleaning and this butler, Wesker decided next time he may have to tell Excella to have them cook something up instead of getting take-out. "Albert!" a musical voice chimed. He looked up to see her coming down the stairs, wearing a long, shimmering, peach cocktail dress, complete with a hat and white, fishnet-like veil. Indeed, the woman knew how to make an entrance.

_It never ceases to amaze me, how intelligent one could be and yet so incredibly gullible at the same time. Excella Gionne is a stunning, beautiful woman, with brains to match. A woman any man should be proud to have on their arm...yet I cannot find myself becoming anymore than friends with her. It was too easy in exploiting her attraction to me. Hardly a challenge...While she is intelligent and business savvy, why is it the combination of this with their fortunate upbringing always spell ruin? Their pride in their heritage and wealth always overshadows their individuality and blinds them of dangers ahead. It's sickening. Fruit can be deliciously tempting at first glance, until you cut it open and find worms. What is there to do then? Salvage what you can and make some use of it before discarding it._


	8. One Year and Three Months

Chapter 8

One Year and Four Months...

A cluster of black umbrellas were in a cemetary on a dreary, rainy day. The cluster stood around a grey tombstone as a priest intoned his blessings upon the one who the group mourned. Yet...there was no body to bury. No coffin to throw flowers upon. Jill Valentine had joined the number of those who gone missing in action, and never been found. Months had gone and they scoured the area for miles stretching from the Spencer estate. Not one thing was recovered. Not a shoe, piece of clothing or weapon. After the search and turning up with nothing, they decided to shut the case reluctantly. Chris Redfield stood right at the headstone with his sister there to comfort him. The rain was a good disguise to hide his tears, his hopes let down by the BSAA. They assured they searched everywhere they could but Chris felt if they hadn't forced him to go back home, maybe he could have found her. There had to be crevices or even caves they may have overlooked. Time passed on after the priest's sermon and one by one, the BSAA members walked away to their cars and left. Claire and Chris were the only ones still standing in that soaked cemetary staring at the honorable headstone dedicated to one of the most closest friends Chris ever had. "Chris," Claire said softly, trying to get her brother's attention. He only stood there in his black suit under the umbrella and staring at the headstone. Claire knew he would need time to heal from this heavy blow. Jill had been someone he worked with for such a long time, since the beginning of S.T.A.R.S. Ever since they survived the Raccoon incident, they been partners trying to bring down Umbrella and any other companty who dared to use bioweapons to threaten the world. Claire stepped away and headed to the car, leaving Chris alone until he was ready to come back.

Chris stared at the headstone for a long time.

A voice in the back of his head nagged that time was slipping away and his sister was waiting, yet another voice kept saying, _just a little longer_. Chris had worked with Jill for a long time, part of the founding members for the BSAA. They built a special relationship on their partnership in the field and were very close. Part of his heart that knew Jill so well did not suffer that feeling of loss. That sorrow one feels when deep down they can sense a loved one had passed did not afflict him. Somehow, Chris believed wherever she was, she was alive. The only sadness Chris felt was a form of regret, letting them talk him into going back to the States while they continued the search without him. Eating and sleeping was becoming more of a chore as he obsessed about her. The muscled man was so deep in his thoughts that he was not aware another had joined him at the site. The gentleman stood inches behind Chris and leaned in, whispering softly at Chris' ear.

"She's not dead you know. Neither am I," the deep voice informed him. The voice was one Chris could never forget and made his blood turn to ice. Here he was in the middle of a cemetary, unarmed and his worst nightmare decides to show up. Chris turned around to face the blonde man. Sunglasses still adorned his face even in this weather and he wore a prestine black suit with a soft, silky, black tie. It took him a second to take in the image of the older man standing before him under an umbrella. Anger began to thaw the frozen blood as it now boiled, and his teeth began to grind.

"What the HELL are you doing here, Wesker?" Chris yelled. The blonde only clicked his tongue and shook his head as a parent would to a child throwing a tantrum.

"Chris, Chris...I am disappointed you are willing to believe them when your instincts tell you differently. You knew they did not find my body or hers...and even if animals had gotten to our bodies, remnants would have been left behind. You know we're not dead...so why aren't you searching for us?"

Wesker asked. Chris' hands balled into fists as he went to punch the snobby son of a bitch in his face. Wesker's body moved so quickly that Chris could not even register the movement with his eyes. Iron gripping hands bit into his wrist as Wesker swung him around and threw him down into a hole. Chris landed on his back and cried out in pain as he slammed into the ground. He stared up at Wesker peering in at him laying in the freshly dug grave. The next thing he saw made Chris' heart skip. Jill walked up to Wesker's side and stood there looking down at him with sorrow in her features. The blonde tyrant turned to her and placed a hand on her shoulder in comfort as she stared at Chris lying in the grave. Tears ran down her cheeks and faded with the rain.

"Why'd you give up on searching for me, Chris?" she asked in such a heartbreaking tone, Chris didn't

know if he could stand it. Seeing how hurt she was and that their worst enemy was there at her side to comfort her, tore Chris' heart into shreds. He reached up to her but she only looked away and refused to face him. The two began to walk away from the edge of the hole and Chris tried to climb up the muddy, slippery walls, shouting for Jill to come back to him.

**{January 28th, 2008. 4:23 A.M.}**

"JILL!"

The room was quiet and moonlight crept in through the blinds. Sweat covered every inch of Chris' body as he sat up in the bed, the white sheet clinging to him. Eyes shifted over to the alarm clock on the nightstand. Red digits changed from 4:23 am to 4:24. A tired Chris groaned and fell back into the pillows, hands rubbing his clammy, wet face. Everytime he fell asleep he would be haunted by another nightmare involving Jill and Wesker. Sometimes it was just her, sometimes just Wesker. On rare accounts such as tonight, it was the both of them. Those ones he hated the most. It always ended with Jill walking away with Wesker and him either left to die or trapped. Little over a year had passed since her disappearance and every day he berated himself for giving in and coming back to the States. Somehow he felt it was his fault. Wesker had him by the throat and he was helpless to stop Jill from deciding on her suicide mission. So many times she had pulled his ass out of the fire, and this last time actually cost her her life. Chris stared at the ceiling as he heard faint footsteps approaching. The door slammed open and the hallway light flooded into his room as Claire walked in. Chris felt the side of his bed sink in as she sat down, a warm hand running through his damp locks.

" Chris, you ok?" his sister asked. The nightmares had afflicted him ever since he came back. They been waning, and less frequent yet just as vivid and horrible when he did suffer them. Chris only nodded, not wanting her to worry about him. The BSAA had allowed him to return to duty after the standard grievance period, and he had not let them know the nightmares or trauma that still effected him. If they had an idea, they would probably force him to retire or resign. In the BSAA, nothing could be taken personally as it often effected how a mission's success or failure played out.

"Sorry if I woke you," he apologized to her. Claire had her own job now, having graduated and earning her degrees. With it being as late as it was and her needing to get up early, he knew she was losing sleep because of the nightmares. Maybe there was a way to tape his mouth closed at night so when he woke up, he would not disturb her. Claire smiled at her big brother and nodded. She'd been there for him the whole time and was the only person he allowed close to him. A yawn escaped his lips as he closed his eyes to try and fall back into sleep. Claire left the room and once he found himself slipping away into dreams again, he didn't find neither of those two there.

**{10:00 A.M.}**

It was ten in the morning when Chris finally left the house. Claire had agreed to find a job and place to stay that was close to Chris' work location. After all the years of not seeing him, the Raccoon City incident and Rockfort Island, she was going to make damn sure she kept her brother at her hip from the time on. The sun was bright, and the snow melting. It was in the end of December, one of the coldest months out of the year. Chris was bundled in his parka as he threw the bulging binder onto the passenger seat and got in quickly. The car hummed to life as he turned the ignition and he sat there a while to let it warm up. He rubbed his hands together to create some warmth, drinking his thermos of hot coffee afterwards. He hadn't had a field mission in a while and was stuck doing paperwork. There were some missions he had been interested in that were in Russia and China, but the BSAA refused to send him.

For the last year, he was only a desk jockey until they decided to send him out. Endless reports had to be done concerning the Umbrella incidents which Chris was there firsthand. They were tracing down the last of its members and bringing them to the long awaited justice they deserved. With the fall of Umbrella, they also had to worry about terrorist cells getting their hands on the B.O.W.s too. As if it was not bad enough terrorists had attacked America on her own soil in 2001, Chris now had to worry about those disgusting creatures getting into the hands of those kind of radicals. Trying to abolish all bio-warfare weapons was like crab grass. You cut one patch of it down, ten more patches appear. Once the engine was warmed up, Chris threw on the heater and his favorite music before pulling out and heading to the BSAA headquarters.

The traffic was horrible. The five lane expressway was backed bumper to bumper, with horns honking and people waving their fists. Chris growned, and knew he should have taken the back roads. An instinct told him to do so, but he wanted to get to the headquarters early to get settled in before staring at the computer screen and typing up all the reports and filing them. The expressway would have been the quicker route but he failed to listen to the radio reports of a semi truck jackknifing and stopping all traffic northbound. It was just his luck. The phone on his hip vibrated and rang and Chris answered it. He winced, seeing it was his boss' name on the screen. He answered it and noticed the time now...he was ten minutes late and at a standstill on a the expressway.

"Yes, sir?" Chris replied. Chris ripped the phone from his ear as his boss began to give him an asschewing for being late. It wasn't like he did it all the time, but he did have a finished report that was crucial and supposed to have been handed in on his arrival. Profanities and anger poured through the small speaker in the phone and all Chris could do was sigh. He did try. At the rate the traffic was moving, with cars barely coasting at three miles an hour, he would be lucky to even finish half his shift if he got to work.

"Well sir, I am on the I-27, and it's backed up...we're not even moving. I intended to get there earlier by the expressway but...yeah..." Chris finished lamely. After all, how was he supposed to predict a major car accident like this? He didn't have any aptitude in fortune telling. His boss told him to just get to the headquarters as quick as possible, which Chris rolled his eyes and hung up. If he wasn't in the far left lane away from all the exits, sure, he would get off and find another way. But he could not make his car magically move through the other four lanes that were packed with other vehicles. Chris slowly lowered his forehead to the steeling wheel and sighed away the stress. All his life he tried to be the better man, to be good and stop bad things from happening...so why was karma being such a bitch to him the last two years for?


	9. Jill's Revival

Chapter 9

Jill's Revival

**{January 29th. 2008. 5:15 P.M.}**

The infirmary was a chaotic mess. Shrill voices, pregnant with panic, echoed through the room among a gaggle of doctors and nurses. Their pale faces were struck with fear and stress as they crowded around a limp figure laid out on a gurny. The group was fruitlessly attempting to force life back into this beautiful woman's body. The ominous, steady beep of the heart's monitor only incensed the doctors to work the hardest they ever had. Strict orders dictacted they were responsible for keeping the woman alive under any costs. With doctors yelling at nurses, and the stern, yet clear voice of a doctor shouting "Clear!", they tried bringing her back with the defibrillator, the usual CPR and shots to the heart. The panicking commotion came to an abrupt silence when the emergency doors slammed open, coming halfway off their strong hinges. The sight of this gorgeous, blond man with the shades was enough to strike fear in the most blackest of hearts. The doctor was still holding the paddles as his bulging, green eyes stared at the monstrosity that walked in the room. The black clad man walked tot he doctor and stood at the gurny's side, staring down at the paraffin skin of the blonde woman, appearing to be in a trance. No one was listening anymore to the continuing beep of the monitor, as all eyes rested on this man.

"How long has she been like this?" he demanded in a soft, but very stern tone. The doctor still holding the defibrillator paddles swallowed the large lump in his throat and opened his mouth to speak in a stuttering answer.

"F..Five...min...,minutes, s-sir..." he got out. The paddles were wrenched from the doctor's numb hands as the man turned to the machine and cranked the dial all the way to its maximum voltage. The doctor's natural instincts for the welfare of his patients kicked in at the last minute as he cast aside the fear he had of this particular man and slammed a hand on the machine to capture the mysterious one's attention.

"You can't do that! That kind of shock is likely to permanently damage her! And if brought back, she could be thrown into cardiac arrest!" he argued. The glare he received from the man, the faint, red glow of his eyes from behind those sunglasses, made the blood drain from his face and his heart to palpitate. Fear had crept back into the doctor's body and ceased his remaining will to question the intruder again. The minute long fury in the doctor had been put out with a single look, as Wesker turned to the naked form on the table and placed the paddles on the woman's chest. Staring at her face, he pushed the buttons to the paddles and the voltage charge sent the limp body rigid and arching off the gurny. It fell back down and the momentary stop of the consisting flatline continued. There were still so many uses to utilize from Jill Valentine, and Wesker would be damned if he let her die peacefully.

Readying the paddles again, Wesker delivered charge after charge until on the fourth one, when all hope was at its lowest point, the blue eyes flew open and her mouth gaped for air. Casting the paddles aside, eyes flickered to the monitor, seeing the jagged lines arching to the highs and lows. Cardiac arrest like the doctor predicted...but she was alive. The doctor was now frantic, worried about the possibility of cerebral dysfunction. The doctors and nurses went into action helping Wesker stabilize her. A series of tests would have to be run on her to confirm whether or not there was any damage. Most likely, there should be and this dismayed the doctor...yet he had to think of what this woman was. The only hope was that this woman still had an incredible amount of luck to help her pull through this. It took fifteen minutes to get her fully stabilized and put on some medication for pain. Hazy, blue eyes didn't seem to register the menacing man in black at her bedside and only stared at the white ceiling above her. The daze of dying, then being brought back into the harsh reailty of life had did a number on her already depleted stamina.

**{5:25 P.M.]**

The room was dim but very sterile and clean. A TV perched on a high stand ran an old film from the seventies, as its occupant slept soundly in her bed. IVs ran intravenous fluids through her, and liquid ibprofen was fed to her through another IV. Wesker stood at her bedside, next to the shorter and skinnier doctor. The heart monitor beeped steadily, and her breathing appeared to have returned to normal. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated her paled features to the men as both didn't have a word to say. The doctor shot a glance up towards Wesker's face, seeing his eyes only resting on the woman. The man didn't dare question what the relationship was between the two and in fact, didn't care to know. Often at times he had that stare, as if he was gazing at something magnificent no one else could see. The woman was important, that much he deduced. He just didn't know _how_ important...she'd been put into cyrostasis for a long time, healing and suffering the effects. The fluids that kept her alive in the capsule had turned her once healthy, pink skin to a pale paraffin, and her brown hair to a startling blonde. The effects were minimal, only effecting her pigmentation and luckily not anything else that was vital.

"She is your responsibility. She will need therapy to learn to walk again. I want daily reports on her progress...and keep an eye on her. At least one blood test every two weeks," came the deep voice of the taller man. The doctor jumped at being addressed and nodded his head vigorously. Wesker turned on his heel and walked from the hospital room. Only once the presence of that monster was gone, did the doctor sigh and feel relief sweep into him. With Albert Wesker gone, the room's atmosphere had lifted and now only the feeling of serenity was left...but there was also the lingering feeling of deep sorrow. What was this woman's story? The doctor managed a grimace as he tended to her IVs and checked her vitals.

Wesker walked the long, white hallways of the facility and was making his way to the surface. He wanted to get to his quarters and rest. The day was ending and it was ending on a good note, that started with panic. One of the doctors had phoned him directly and told him there was a problem with a particular subject. After the number was read off to him, Wesker had hung up and was moving quicker than the eye could see to get to the infirmary. Jill had flatlined while in the cryostasis sleep capsule. While not unheard of, signs usually predicted whether or not a subject was having trouble. Abnormal drops in temperature, heartrate and organ function. Jill's vitals had been checked last week and while only her heartbeat was slow, that was expected. The temperature had dropped the first few months by a few degrees, but always stayed around 94. Organs still functioned properly and there were no signs that would have led one to suspect she might die. Wesker's only theory was someone tampered with Jill's controls while he was not aware. Security tapes would have to be called in to make sure no one had touched Jill's controls during the last week after her last examination.

The room was cool which was how Wesker liked it. The cold air hit his face and he sighed in relief. Shutting the door and locking it to prevent any unwelcome intruders (of which he could think of only one), the man stripped out of his long sleeve shirt and threw it on the back of a chair. Collapsing on the couch, he laid there and kicked his boots off. The day had been going well until that emergency...but perhaps it is good Jill came out of the sleep. The discoveries he made about her body and blood, was a gold mine. The joy he felt the moment he found the missing piece to the Uroboros puzzle...he wished he could have hugged the woman. It was by some stroke of luck that Jill still possessed the vaccine of the T-virus in her body. The cyrostasis must have slowed down her immune system as well because Wesker had noticed the production of the T-virus in her.

It worried him because he didn't want her to die so soon when he already made plans what he would use her for. The next check-up, he was astonished and had to look closely in the microscope. The vaccine had adapted well to her immune system and no trace of the virus remained. What took its place though was unusually resistent and strong antibodies. Feeling a little adventurous, he called for samples of the T-virus and all its descendants.

Pitting every single one against her antibodies under the microscope, he watched as each one was devoured. Even when the levels of the virus were higher than that of the antibodies, they won. Uroboros was still in its experimental phases. It was derrived from the same plant the original T-virus was made from...and it was extremely potent. Too potent for the use Wesker planned for it. The idea of using Jill's antibodies to level out the effects dawned on him. The hunch was on the money...it was indeed less potent with the combination of her antibodies. The missing link had been found in something he never expected. The damage she caused him as they both fell to their deaths from that mansion was now a trivial factor. For keeping her, he was given an especially juicy treat. She hadn't been the easiest person to deal with though...Wesker rubbed the bridge of his nose as he thought back to when he attacked her.

She was half way healed from her afflictions and the growing spite in her eyes made Wesker wary of her. If she were allowed to completely heal and have free will, she would become a possible threat and hindrance to his operations. After realizing what he wanted to do and entering the first stages of it with Excella, he decided what Jill would serve a purpose for. Jill would be his first subject.

Wesker had snuck into her room to surprise her and found the job might be easier than he predicted. Jill was in the bathroom where he heard the sound of water running. Approaching the bathroom cautiously, he peeked in to see a figure behind a pane of frosted glass standing under the shower and water cascading down her. His looming form approached her, a syringe gripped tightly in one hand. In one single moment, the shower door was slammed open and he stepped in without hesitance. A gloved hand clamped over her mouth to prevent her from screaming as he fell against the tiled wall of the shower, holding her struggling form. Her naked form thrashed wildly against him, trying to break away. She struggled the best she could but the jab of a needle in her neck stiffened her. Not knowing what he was injecting her with, Jill fought like a wildcat until she slowly began to feel too sleepy and tired to resist.

Wesker slid down the slippery wall with his hand still over her mouth. She fell down with him until they were both sitting on the floor, Wesker drenched and Jill's form lying against him. The needle was thrown to the bathroom floor as he reached over and turned the dial off. The drug would last for a few hours which would give him time to get her to the cyrogenic capsules and have her set into one. It would save a lot of time, and effort. Wesker rested his head on her shoulder a moment, recollecting his thoughts and letting his heart slow down. The scent of chamomile had reached his senses...calming him.

Red eyes stared at the ceiling as he stopping his train of thought. He refuted to let his mind venture down avenues he expressively forbidden himself to go. After the day and Jill stabilized, he decided he should shower...thanking the memory fro reminding him. He would then have to dress and not neglect his meeting with Excella, who was now head of the African Division of Tricell...many thanks to his shrewd planning. Working with her on the bioweapons and having her present them to Tricell as her own kept his identity in the dark, and let the company see Excella as more than that they thought. Lots of flirtation and wily ways, as well as her intelligence landed her the position. Now they were stuck in Africa...which Wesker wouldn't care to see again in another lifetime. The lack of technology except for their facilities, and the blistering sun weren't very accomodating for his likes. Appealing to the villagers too was also a task he had to work hard at. His plans were going well, and he was halfway there...


	10. Awake

Chapter 10

Awake

_I wake up, but part of me wishes not to. I don't know what kind of nightmare I'll be waking up to anymore, after my abduction. The silence weighed in around me, just as heavy as the darkness. I had a fear that if I opened my eyes to my surroundings, I'd see _HIM_ there, watching me. All I remember between now and then was him attacking me while I was showering, and sticking a needle in my neck. After that, everything became dark and I fainted. What happened since then? Moving my arms and legs seem so much easier now than before. Nothing was sore or painful. Unable to take the suspense no more, I slowly opened my eyes to the room I was in. The lights were dim and it appeared to be an ordinary hospital room. IV s hung from my arms and a monitor displayed my heartbeat. It was clear I was being taken care of...but that only scared me more. The last time I was in someone's care, a new nightmare had been born. _

**{January 30th, 2008. 12:30 P.M.}**

Jill's eyes surveyed her room. No one seemed to be around to keep watch on her. The assumption guards would be outside her room did come to mind, but Jill was resilient as ever. The monitors that were keeping careful watch of her vitals were most likely connected to a nurse station that would alert someone if she flatlined. Jill couldn't simply lie back and take this either. The IVs were ripped from her arms and thrown to the side. The sticky pieces of tape were peeled off that held wires monitoring her brain activity as well. The clip on her finger that took her pulse was cast aside as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and pushed herself off. What happened next couldn't be explained. As Jill felt her feet touch the ground, she wobbled. The strength one normally had to walk had been robbed. With one step forward to her desired freedom, she collapsed to the floor, the rolling table being knocked aside and the metal tray sliding and clattering to the ground beside her. A groan escaped her lips as she tried to push herself up. Even her arms failed her as she tried to get up. The best she accomplished was being able to sit up. Jill's legs moved clumsily as she again attempted to stand but to no avail. Even the help of the bed's railing didn't get her up. Why couldn't she walk?

"Dear me...what are you trying to do?" a voice addressed her. Jill's head snapped up and with a tray in hand, tried to hit the person with it. The man in the white lab coat jumped back as he dodged the flying tray, eyes widened at her. The determined and wild glare in the woman's eyes took the breathe out of the doctor in charge of seeing over her care. As he tried to approach her, she lashed out with her arms, nails aiming to claw him apart if he got too close.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" she yelled. It was no use trying to convince her she was safe, as the doctor knew too well...and since she was awake, now he had to notify Wesker...

"Miss Valentine...please...we're trying to help. We got-"

"Don't give me that shit!" she screamed back. It was apparent that force would have to be used in this case. The doctor snapped his fingers and a nurse came in, who had been waiting in the hallway. A syringe was in the woman's hands. After the woman came in, two surly looking men followed in and grabbed Jill be her arms. The lithe body of Jill thrashed and tried to kick with her disobedient legs, only to receive a prick in the neck from the nurse. Jill was put onto her bed and strapped in with heavy looking leather buckles and belts. IVs were replaced and set up once more. It was agony seeing her being strapped down by these people. A lab rat was treated better than she was at this moment. Jill watched as the doctor walked out of the room with a grimace as the two guards stayed at either side and the nurse stood at the bed's end, keeping those robotic green eyes on her. An instinct told her what the doctor was doing, and she cried. She cried until she felt the sedative the nurse stabbed her with working on her and slipped into another long nap.

**{2:36 P.M.}**

The room was silent. The dreamless sleep Jill fell into began to turn into reality. Fear once again gripped her, as memories flooded back what happened. It was a mystery why she could not control her own body anymore as she tried to escape, and then that doctor...and the nurse who gave her the sedative. If her memory recalled correctly, she also remembered two bodyguards who held her down to strap her into the bed. The doctor had walked out of the room...and now she feared who she would see when she opened her eyes. It would not be the doctor or the nurse, that much she could count on. Consciousness came to her fully only after a few minutes, and now the only thing that made her eyes remain shut was the horror she feared. No noise in the room revealed someone may be in there with her. No sound of paper rustling, no footsteps or breathing. Could they have left her alone? Could he be somewhere far away that he couldn't see her?

Gathering all the remaining strength and courage she had, Jill's eyes fluttered open. The glimpse of the man standing right at her side, staring down at her and motionless as a statue, had shocked her so much that her eyes bolted open the rest of the way. No matter where she ran, how far she got, he was always there at the end of the line waiting for her.

"Please...just...please, stay away from me," she begged. From her enemy's point of view, it was almost cute to see her beg him to leave her alone. It was the first lines on the canvas painting depicting a foe's submission. It was beautiful.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Jill. You're too valuable for me to leave you alone now," he answered. Wesker gave a faint smirk at her beaten pride. It would seem she might cry again, but seeing who she was in front of, the woman sniffed stubbornly and refused to let a tear fall. Yet...something was off with Wesker telling her how valuable she was to him. Surely he didn't mean to use her as bait for Chris still? Unless he finally came up with a reason for her use...before he wasn't sure, and had admitted that.

" I'm valuable now? Just how valuable?" she asked angrily, furious eyes turning on the ominous man. A soft chuckle rolled off his tongue as he folded his hands in front of him.

"...I'd say...valuable enough that there can be no price to match you," he concluded. It was unusual for Wesker to praise anyone, let alone her...unless he had good reason, and Wesker's definition for good reason always meant trouble for everyone else. Unsure eyes lingered on him before the situation reminded her of a more important question.

"What did you do to me? What the hell did you do to me in that shower?" Jill growled out, struggling against her bonds. It startled her when he settled down on her bedside, sitting at the edge. Those sunglasses remained on him, even though it appeared to be night and there was no need for them. To hide himself...? Why?

"...I gave you a simple sedative. And had you placed into cyrostasis. Your wounds were mostly healed...enough to place you in it without any complications. To simplify the reason why, it was to prevent you from becoming a liability. I needed no distractions while I worked on my project," he answered. The answer only sprung more questions about his motives. Her being a liability? A project? Cyrostasis? How much time had elapsed since he put her in cyrostasis?

"...How long was I in cyrostasis, Wesker?" she gritted out. The man tilted his head ever so slowly, studying her expression and emotions. It was evident Jill was wrecked by her emotions at the moment, with so many negative ones colliding together inside. Wesker supposed he did owe her an explanation.

"...Over a year," came the feared answer, which stunned Jill into silence. What she heard was not what she expected, and her mind temporarily went blank. It would explain why she lost the ability to stand or use her arms correctly. To be in cyrostasis sleep for so long was akin to being paralyzed and recovering from the disability. At this moment, she was like a child; she would have to learn how to walk again, how to use her body. This was a major setback and forced her to continue to be in Wesker's "caring" hands.

"...You will go through therapy to learn to walk again. And don't worry. I won't use you in my main 'project'. You are no longer eligible for it," he said. If it was meant to soothe any of Jill's fears, it only heightened them. She knew he kept her alive for some reason. _The sick, twisted bastard. What does he have in store for me then? _

"I'll let you alone...to rest," he informed her and stood. Burning, hateful eyes watched the back of that man walk out of the room to attend to his own business. Any attempt to escape now would be futile unless someone helped and given the circumstances, she was sure these doctors and nurses would not aid her in fear for their own life. They seemed to be aware of Wesker's reputation already.

Neon lights flashed on the runway as a man with a goofy grin stared at a perfect body that danced in front of him in nothing but a thong. Money was waved in front of her by the man as she crawled on hands and knees, taking the bill between her lips. Irving did love it when he visited America, where such things as strip clubs were banned in other countries. The little free time he earned between wheeling and dealing with his customers was spent in these clubs, where the women danced on the golden pole and shook their perfectly sculpted bodies for a little cash. Only one thing could ruin the moment he was having with this red head stripper that was rocking her body to the song pulsating through the club. His cellphone. The vibrating eletronic alerted him, and he sorely wished they could have picked any other time to decide to call him. He slipped a fifty into the woman's thong and gave her behind a pat.

"Later, doll. Breaks my heart ta leave ya, but business calls," he said with a wink. The woman smirked at him, her large breasts bouncing as she waved him off. Irving turned and walked out of the club into the sunny day. He sighed and flicked the phone open, putting it to his ear. The call had come up unknown, but not many had this number to begin with...

"Irving speaking. What can I do ya for?" he answered.

" Ricardo. I need you in Africa. Now," came a chilling, deep voice. It was enough to blanche Irving's face as he nearly dropped his cellphone. A clammy hand kept its grip on the phone, his body shaking.

"Uh no problem. Be there quick!" he hastily replied. The soft click on the other side ended their short conversation and Irving quickly pocketed the phone. Unbuttoning the first button of his shirt to allow some breathing room he calmed his nerves. Wesker and Excella had sent him to the States to inform possible customers of their merchandise. It had been the last stop after his long trek across the Middle East, Europe and Asia. So why did they suddenly want him in Africa with them?

**{4:50 P.M.}**

A light wisp of smoke emitted from the long stemmed cigarette holder. It had been a rough transition for Excella to come to Africa, a place void of all the class and mannerisms she was accustomed to in Italy. It made her sick, but the money was good and finally. She had achieved a very respectable position as the CEO of the African Division. Albert and herself had to convince the company she was qualified for the job, despite the questionable methods of persuasion used to attain those votes of confidence.

The subject of perfecting the Las Plagas parasite rose between them. Wesker was bent on the choice of the parasite, while Excella remained skeptical. The project to perfect the Las Plagas, or at the very least to improve the disadvantages, was given to a Ricardo Irving. Both were surprised as to the levels he reached in perfecting it. It still did not retain well in women and children, but it was a definite breakthrough. However, the new Las Plagas, Type 1 and Type 2, were ready to present to Tricell as a promising, lucrative investment for their bio-weapon research...and as they expected, Tricell agreed to allowing Excella to run a field test.

Getting permission to excavate the old Umbrella facility had been easier than thought of too. The plans the two had made a year and so ago worked perfectly. Almost too perfectly, that Excella came to regard Wesker as a mastermind criminal. Not that she had any reason to complain. It only intensified her attraction to the man.

As she sat outside on the small balcony of the hotel, the door's lock jingled. The woman stood and turned to face the door, knowing it had to be only one person. Flicking the cigarrette over the side and sticking the cigarette holder between the couch cushions, she rushed to the small nightstand table and sprayed some perfume on. To smell like cigarette smoke was well...unlady-like.

" Albert! You're back early," she gushed, rushing to his side. The dress she had picked out to wear in Africa was light, short and sleeveless. It showed plenty of her perfect cleavage, and flattered her waistline, and slender legs. The creamy yellow contrasted nicely against her olive skin and dark hair. Wesker had stopped after he shut the door, glancing sideways at her for a moment...and just to sate his male curiosity, a micro-second peek down her cleavage. While Excella made him feel claustrophobic, he had to admit the woman had a killer body.

"I wasn't planning on staying out long," he said, curious about her statement. Had she expected him to be gone longer? "Jill's awake," he informed her, standing in front of the dresser that held up a large mirror. He glanced to see her reaction, knowing well what Excella thought of Jill. It never failed to amuse him the shades of jealousy and exasperation that ran through her features when he mentioned her. It seemed to have tamed since Jill had been placed in cryostasis, but he knew it was only a smoldering flame that if provided with oxygen could erupt into a wildfire. The long, black coat was shrugged off and thrown on a chair as he removed his gun from the holster to clean it.

"Oh," was all she could say in retort. Slender arms folded themselves over her busty chest, her eyes narrowing at him. The magazine was removed and placed on the dresser, as Wesker continued to take the gun apart to clean.

"I don't see why that should be very interesting," she commented, crossing the room and sitting on the neatly made bed. It did upset her that he left her alone the other day when he got a phone call and left without a single word. Now she knew why he left in such a hurry.

" She flatlined...which by the way, is not normal while in cyrostasis sleep. She was stable when she was put in, and remained stable until yesterday. I kept a close watch on her vitals, to make sure nothing was going wrong. So, what other option does that leave me to believe?" he asked her, taking out the cloth and cleaner from a drawer. The clip had been removed to prevent any accidental firing and was laid upon the dresser as he began to explain his suspicions. Using a cloth and special cleaning polish, he began to clean the inside of the clip's chamber to remove any residue.

"...That someone tampered with the control panel to her capsule?" Excella said bitterly. It was a common fact that Wesker had a sense of paranoia around others, never trusting a single, living soul. To assume someone had hacked into the controls and tampered with the system sustaining Jill obviously was the route he wanted to go down. And again...she hated how right he always was.

"Exactly. And I will find out who. And that person...will suffer pain unimaginable. If we hadn't discovered how valuable Jill's antibodies were for the T-virus, we would not have advanced as far as we have with the Uroboros project. She will be kept under heavy surveillance," Wesker concluded. After cleaning the magazine chamber and sliding back the barrel to give it a quick wipe, he let it slide into place again with a muted click. He much preferred revolvers which were more reliable, but the reloading was a disadvantage even with speed loaders...and always expecting things to heat up, he did not want to be caught with a gun jamming on him.

Excella watched as he cleaned the gun, a habit he developed out of boredom she had guessed. Jill's survival was not supposed to happen. Excella only allowed the woman to be kept alive long enough to harvest the antibodies for Wesker's project. Many times he had been caught studying Jill's blood endlessly into the night, or standing before her capsule, gazing at her. Excella was losing hope there was one lustful bone in his body, since he could stare at Jill who lie naked in that capsule, and no emotional reaction was ever elicted from him. Still the fact remained he spent more time staring at that unconscious woman than paying her any attention...even her with all her charm and seductive beauty could not persuade Wesker.

"Mmm. Why do you always have to work? Can't you take a break? Just once?" She cooed, trying to once again persuade him. The harsh sound of the clip of bullets being slapped into the gun was the answer she got.

"I called Irving. He will be coming to Africa within the week I presume. Do me a favor. Call him and finalize his trip with him, and what time he'll be arriving,," he said. With a huff, she got up and left the room going back to the balcony. She hated that man more than anything, and worse, hated having to endure his rather poor pick up lines. No answer was needed as Wesker knew Excella would do as he asked. Sticking the gun in the holster, he pondered what he should do about Jill. With the Uroboros project underway, and advancing so quickly, he could not afford to waste precious time overseeing Jill's progress...as much as he wanted to be there, to cause her suffering. Just his appearance seemed to rouse the fury and hatred within her.

"I am going to pick up some more ammunition. I am low," Wesker said. Excella poked her head in from the balcony with a raised brow. It was fairly odd for him to just come here to clean his gun, then decide to go back out for ammunition. It struck the Italian as odd, and unneccessary.

"I won't be gone long," he assured her, seeing the doubt in her eyes. A few times she had little faith in his plans, and he always came out right. It was probably why she shrugged and went to lounge on the chair out there in the sun. Seeing she would keep herself entertained for the moment, Wesker decided he would leave now and go out to the marshlands, on a personal scouting mission of his own.


	11. Therapy Sessions

Chapter 11:  
Therapy Sessions

**{5:25 P.M.}**  
Sweat poured down her neck and forehead as frustration swept through her. There were many stories in the world about people who had to go through therapy to learn basic skills again like walking or standing. All this time, Jill never thought she would be one of those numbers. Hands smoothed down over her freshly shaven legs. Muscles were there and well defined. Nothing appeared wrong, so why couldn't she get her nerves to listen to her mind and walk? It took an effort to stand. The doctors praised her as she stood for the first time in over a year, saying that it takes an average person months to accomplish without the use of an aid. The shining moment only lasted about three seconds before she crumpled to the floor. Doggedly, she tried and tried, only managing to stand. Trying to take a step was the hardest thing. The moment she tried to lift weight off one foot to move, she fell back down. While the doctors and therapists warned her she should go back to bed and try again the next day at her next session, she bluntly refused and continued. The doctor who she vaguely remembered talking to was overseeing everything. Blue eyes glared daggers at the man, cursing him for eternity.

"Why do you work for him?" she hissed at him. The young looking doctor grimaced and shook his head.

"I don't...I was working under Tricell Corporation as a doctor. Our division CEO brought that man here," he said angrily. The emotion in the man's voice led Jill to believe that he was telling the truth. All he was, was just a doctor, then their CEO had to go and bring the devil to their walls.

"Who's the CEO? And what division?" Jill asked. Energy was starting to come back to her and her will to at least accomplish taking a small step was growing.

"Excella Gionne, CEO of the African Division of Tricell," he answered. Jill nearly fell from her seat on the table as he said African Division. It didn't necessarily mean they were IN Africa, did it? Terrified eyes stared at the doctor, and her jaw dropped. The sight took the doctor by surprise before he slapped his forehead.

"Oh, I forgot...you were in cyrogenic sleep so you wouldn't know...you were put under in Italy, but after Excella got the CEO spot here in Africa, she transferred over...as did you and that monster. And that man seemed keen on making sure you live," he noted. " You flatlined...just before your time was over and you had to be woken. We all were trying to save you and somehow, he found out and came barging through the doors. He grabbed the paddles from me, and turned trhe dial on maximum voltage...worried for you, because you were signed under my care, I told him it was dangerous...he still did it and brought you back to life...and us doctors had to run about to stabilize you...whatever it is you got, he wants...you'd best better hide it from him," he warned.

Jill stared dumbfounded at the doctor. His green eyes showed genuine worry for her. The situation was determined by the information she just received. Excella Gionne somehow became a CEO, she was in Africa, and Wesker was hellbent making sure she lived. Just what was it about him saving her life and determined to keep her in this hell? The fury beginning to flood through her, sparked the decision to try and walk away from all this. As she stood on unsure legs, she took one step forward and felt her body give way. The doctor rushed to her just in time before she hit the floor. With ease, the doctor gathered her into his arms and was walking toward her room.

"That's enough for today...you need some rest so you can attempt this again tomorrow," he encouraged. Fatigue was beginning to set in, that was true, and hunger pains. It made Jill nearly cry when they informed her she could only sustain a liquid diet; water, apple sauce and broth. Some doctors had said that was pushing it and she should only be fed through IVs. This doctor though, that was carrying her, tried to cut her slack. He got her some broth soup and apple sauce and she managed to keep it down. After a year in that capsule, her body adapted to the nutrients fed through IVs and no longer knew how to properly digest hard foods such as fruits or meat.

"We'll get you some chicken broth and water. And you get your rest, ok?" he said with a soft smile. Jill strengely felt comfortable around this one.

"What's your name?" she asked quietly.

"Roger Grenik," he replied, glancing down at her. Most would think it would be strange to take comfort in a complete stranger, especially one who worked under Wesker, but she had little choices. Alone, afraid and completely at the mercy of her enemy, Jill wanted to find comfort in something. This doctor didn't seem positively thrilled to be working for Wesker and Excella, and covering up their crimes, so they had that in common. This minor similarity she clung to tightly.

**{6:00 P.M.}**  
As the sun set on the horizon, the fanboat raced across the wetlands. The man in black sat in it alone, steering the boat towards the main entrance. He would need to get to the infirmary where Jill was kept and get an update. It would be interesting to hear how Jill may have progressed from her present situation. Excella seemed less than pleased to know he would be leaving to the wetlands. The sidetrip to the infirmary was unscheduled, at least to Excella's knowledge. They needed the support of the wetland tribes so they had a ready test bed for their experiments. They planned on using the Las Plagas virus on those here in the wetlands. He had not spoken with these tribesmen yet, and was only scoping out the area...and gathering information of the history so he could better use it to his advantage.

Terrorists hid here and conspired under the protection of amnesty, and some of the world's most deadliest diseases were born from here. Wesker recalled reading about the Ebola virus breakouts in Kenya, and all they did was bar off the town until the virus died out. Kijuju was probably hoping the same solution would work for them...they would be sadly mistaken.

The whole idea of releasing the Las Plagas was to divert the attention of the government away from the real plans. It was simply a pawn on the board, to make the government think they were dealing with the same incident Spain dealt with. Little did they know the very facility Tricell was developing something much more fearsome and evolutionary. At least, this was what Wesker felt. To think after all these years of scheming, betrayal, murder and lying, he would finally be able to achieve something great and godly. It put the man in a good mood thinking how far he had come, and Jill, one of his longtime enemies, would be here to witness the very thing she help create that ironically, she had been trying so hard to prevent. Now, he had to go check his subject and see just how she was improving.

**{8:09 P.M.}**  
Surreal dreams filled Jill's mind. Most of them did not make sense; being in an airport in August and it was snowing, Chris offering her to ride on his back through a park, and Excella was even there, complaining about the cheap price her company put on selling gum drops, and that the purple ones should be sold separately for much more. It baffled the woman to think such absurd dreams could occur in anyone's mind. Then those voices faded and she was emerged in darkness. Jill felt queasy about the surroundings, wondering what other cockeyed situation would happen. Would a zombie approach her with a bouquet of flowers now? A cold chill went through her as she ventured forward. A glowing light filtered through the ceiling and as she looked up, she saw a bleak, grey sky. Snow poured from the sky and blew fiercely across the barren land. Jill looked all around herself and everything was the same. The ground was covered in a vast blanket of snow that stretched for miles and miles...no building in sight, no sign of life. Among the observations she was making about the blizzard around her, she overlooked one thing. A man standing a distance from her.

"Jill," the sihlouette called. Blue eyes focused on the man standing twenty feet in front of her. The telltale signs of the snow reflecting off the black sunglasses, and the slicked back blonde hair...she knew instinctively who it was. Wesker. He approached her and while every bone in her body wanted to turn and run the other way, as far away as she could get, she was rooted to the spot. Every muscle was seized and beyond her control. The closer he got, the quicker her pulse went. He came to stand a foot from her, staring at her. The snow whipped around them and the heavy looking coat he wore fluttered about his form. The two stood there a moment like that before he made the first move. His hand was held out and lay open.

"Come," he said. Jill shook her head, refusing. the tears that slid down her cheeks quickly froze to her skin. The offer still stood with him, who unlike her, was still and calm. Shivers overtook Jill as she crossed her arms and tried to stay warm. Where was Chris? Why wasn't he coming for her? Why had he given up? Why was she still in Wesker's hands?

"Jill. Come," the deep toned voice urged. Jill's eyes stayed off Wesker and onto the sparkling floor of snow beneath them. A heavy coat fell around her and she jerked her head up to see his coat missing from his back. The warmth it provided when it was put around her made her knees buckle. What form of torture was this? As he stepped in, his arms wrapped around her and pressed her tightly to his body. The warmth he provided against the biting cold was welcomed. His lips tickled her ear as he spoke to her.

"Come with me, Jill...I can erase your fears...if only you will let me," he whispered. The promise sounded too good to be true, and it was. Jill's ideals of being released from her fears were far different than Wesker's perceived ideals.

"Does that mean...you'll give me some lethal virus to kill me? Is that your idea of releasing me?" she asked bitterly. A deep, resonating chuckle rolled over her ear. A frigid wind blew the snow into Jill's face, making her bury her head into his chest.

"No...there are other methods I wish to experiment with," he said deviously. The closure the two had in the wintry solitude was disturbing for Jill. She knew this had to be a dream, and she had to wake. Neither of them would ever act in such ways, and Wesker was far from being considered 'generous'. The image of the two became blurry and soon Jill found the surroundings becoming dark, sound becoming sharper, and more aware of the soft fabric under her fingers.

Eyes fluttered open to the hospital room she was contained in. A sigh of relief escaped her when she realized she was alone in the room. No doctors, no nurses and no Wesker. Jill's head rolled side to side as she came to. A tingling sensation was bothering her in the legs..._probably from pushing myself too hard in therapy. The nerves seem to just now be waking from the numbness. _Jill found a small tray resting near her bed. As she propped herself up in the hospital bed, she pulled it over. The tray stand rolle dover to her easily. The styrofoam bowl was lukewarm and contained chicken broth. A pitcher of water was on it too, with an empty glass next to it. She'd plan to eat once she was escorted back to her room, but fatigue won out over hunger and she fell asleep the moment her body decided it had grown comfortable. The best she could do now...was work hard to walk again, and try not to invite anyone's wrath...preferrably a particular man known to be prone to violent tendencies.


	12. Wesker's Recollections

Chapter 12   
Wesker's Recollection

_If I had to look back over the year, I would have to say...much had been accomplished._

_My careful planning of catapulting Excella through the ranks in Tricell worked wonderfully. While she and her miniscule team worked their fingers to the bone to develop a moving presentation (with information I provided and samples Irving provided)), they finally convinced Tricell to further explore the field of bio-weapons. After they had finally gotten the go ahead, her team labored to reproduce the viruses and Las Plagas parasites until there was a sufficient amount. Of course, it was inevitable that Umbrella's leftover B.O.W.s would end up in terrorists hands through the black market...Tricell had standards. They wished to pitch the ideas to various militaries in various countries. This permission that was granted to Excella, granted permission for more personal plans me and Excella had. _

_The handling of the production for these bio-weapons was done so well that Tricell finally took Excella seriously...however, this was only the first step. The moment they would begin to take her seriously, was the time that we could make demands. Spencer's journal revealed there was a secret facility in Africa that hid the very flower that started this all. Reading the research they did, and how they refined it to become the T-virus. All the research I done on the T-virus, proved the natural Progenitor virus was diluded with other pathogens...I wanted to start anew. Right from the very source that Spencer himself started with. However, what Spender wrote in his journal, it would seem the flower only grew in Africa, and did not flourish outside the continent. The only resolve was to revive that facility...and with Excella's newfound respect within Tricell's ranks, surely she could convince them to transfer her to the African Division...and reopen the facility. _

_Excella had proven her worth and earned her position as CEO of Tricell's African Division. The facility has been excavated under her orders when she first arrived in Africa. Jill had been transported over here and placed into the newly renovated cyrogenic holding facility. I kept a close watch on all her vitals, and taking it upon myself to note any changes. Excella and I were in the first stages of Project Uroboros...we had isolated the enhancing pathogen from the flower but nothing we could do would weaken the potent effects it had. In this bleak moment of my project, when I felt so frustrated and at a loss...Jill became my light of hope. _

_I had noticed a change not just in the pigmentation of her skin and hair, but in her very chemistry. The viral vaccine she was given in Raccoon City had not eradicated the T- Virus variants as it should have. All it did was contain the damage and force the virus to go dormant, lying trapped in her body all this time; like a ticking time bomb. Being put in cyrogenic sleep like this was a mistake, and I eternally panicked. The point of my keeping dear Jill alive was to bring Chris suffering for meddling in my affairs. I remembered that Alexia Ashford had placed herself in cyrostasis before, to slowly activate the virus...and I beared witness to the beautiful monstrosity she became. I watched day by day as the virus was reactivated and spread through her body. _

_I was again surprised, when I checked her blood the next day to see a new development. The slowly spreading virus was completely eradicated, yet her blood was not the same type as a normal human's. Powerful antibodies had been left behind. Her own immune system reacted in such a way to the spreading virus that it produced strong antibodies. Curious as to how strong these antibodies were, I extracted a few samples and pitted some of the various virus samples against them. It was amazing to see how they absorbed and destroyed the viruses. It dawned on me there. If these antibodies could kill off other forms of the Progenitor virus created, could it take on the primitive virus itself? Or as my hopes were, make it less lethal?_

_The samples were taken and tested against the virus I derrived from the Progenitor virus. Our early stages of Uroboros were too potent and had a 100% death rate. It would not achieve the true goal I had in forcing the evolution of humankind, if it killed them all. Contrary to what most would believe, I did want survivors..but only a select few that would be worthy enough to withstand and adapt to evolution. I went to the cyrogenic facility and took a few normal blood samples from our newly acquired test subjects. When I began the research, I witnessed how Jill's antibodies fused with the Uroboros virus and it stabilized...birthing a new virus altogether. This new pathogen was then tested against blood of normal humankind...of the many tests I performed, many failed...but some did prevail. It would destabilize after a while, but it was a big leap for the research from the standstill it was currently at. Jill, a woman who had fought all her life to eradicate bio-weapons, had a big helping hand in creating the most dangerous one. _

_As of now...the Uroboros Project is on way and quickly advancing. Excella and I are taking the precautions we need, and have Tricell lab workers researching the virus. So far, no favorable results have yielded in the test subjects...however, they are not dying right away. Perhaps, I should take a leaf from Alexia's book and try placing them all in cyrogenic sleep when they are first injected with the virus? It will be something to go over with Excella. _

_Tricell has been wanting a field test of the Las Plagas parasite. I thought it a good idea to allow them to use Africa as the test bed, while underneath all their testing of the Las Plagas, I could continue my research on Uroboros, while Tricell will be looking the other way. Even more reason for them to rehabilitate that facility. Excella and I suggested a small town we are near, Kijuju. With its natives fighting with non-natives, it would be prime to let one side have the parasite and do as they wish. They will probably end up taking on our suggestion once the facility is truly workable. Right now, they only had time to get the cyrogenic facility working, and the basic labs. _

_The only problem I have now, is so rudimentary, that I have come to regard it as an annoyance. My "dearest" Jill Valentine, had been found in her capsule flatlined. For the past year and few months, we have been harvesting her valuable antibodies and perfecting a way to replicate them. Until then, losing her would be a grave loss to my project. When the news came to me that the woman had flatlined, my suspicions were her vital controls had been tampered with. I personally checked on her every day and night, and there was nothing out of the ordinary aside from the previously mentioned discoveries, yet she flatlined. No traces of poisons, developing infections or drugs could be detected. However, we found that her systems had indeed been tampered with once we checked the logs. _

_Unfortunately for me, Tricell had not yet gotten around to putting the security systems online and there is no footage of who may have manipulated the machinery monitoring Jill's vitals. Until I can decide what I want to do with Jill, she is being placed under heavy security. She yet may prove to be useful. Filed in here are the logs to Jill's capsule system on the day of her "death"._

_TRICELL, INC. - AFRICAN DIVISION_

_Subject No.: 0084-6237  
Name: Jill Valentine_

_12/29/07  
EXEC. LOGIN-No. 1022371-03 - 16:50  
EXEC. SELECT - VIT. SYS. - 16:52  
EXEC. EDIT - VIT. SYS. CLATHRATE/HYDRATE LVL.4 TO LVL.0 - 16:56  
EXEC. EDIT CONFIRM - 16:57  
EXEC. LOGOUT-No.1022371-03 - 16:58_

__**{8:40 P.M.}**

Wesker was not one to normally write in journals, but there were times he wished to express all his thoughts in a collective, organized manner. He saved the document to an external hard drive he had plugged in, then shut the computer down. The external was unplugged and slipped into his coat pocket. It was getting late in the evening and he had more running around to do. The visit to the marshlands had ate up more time than he wished for. After seeing Jill wake, he was curious how her day went when she found out she couldn't walk or stand for too long. Knowing her for as long as he had, he would guess she was frustrated and feeling alone...and his face would be the last thing she wanted to see at the end of her grueling day. Still, she was his subject and that required him to make daily check-ups on her. The gun was slipped into its holster and he checked to make sure he had extra clips. Content, he walked out of the room and locked up. He and Excella were staying in this small hotel in the better part of Kijuju. It was only temporary, and he hoped they could move to the more accomodating area soon.

The car revved as he sped down a dirt road, heading for the old facility. The car bounced and rocked down the unpaved road, and Wesker decided to take it a little more easy on the vehicle. It was not a car made for this kind of terrain. The sun was setting over the horizon as he parked outside the area. He locked the car up and approached the guard post. Showing his ID, they let him enter. With only a basic lab, infirmary and cyrogenic facility up and running, they still had much more to do. Holding areas, living quarters, storage and more labs to list a few. The rusty doors were pushed open and he was greeted by a waiting Dr. Grenik.

"Good evening, Mr. Wesker," he welcomed. The man walked alongside the blonde as they headed to an old elevator. It was only a basic lift really, with a platform, chickenwire cage and lever. The doctor seemed to disapprove of the conditions of this old facility, not rendering it safe to keep any patients in. The infirmary was the first thing Tricell outfitted with some of the best technology, knowing the importance of having a clean, sterile infirmary.  
As the two were lowered by the clanking, noisy elevator, they emerged at an old door. It was rusted on the outside and the walls around it stained an ugly greenish grey. The doctor swiped his keycard through the electronic slot and he opened the door. It was surreal to walk from a dirty, old elevator into this infirmary. Here, everything was powder white, and the lights were blinding. Nurses in crisp white uniforms walked around with the Tricell logo on their shirts, and clipboards in hand. Wesker seemed to be the only one that didn't belong, wearing all black in an area that was snow white. The doctor didn't say anything aside his name, waiting for Wesker to ask him a question first while leading him to Jill's room.

"How did her first therapy go?" the blonde asked. Roger glanced back a moment before turning a corner with the man.

"She can stand...for about 3 seconds unassisted. That itself is much progress as many need a walker or cane to stand for any duration. She is stubborn...and probably has put her muscles and nerves through too much. She will recover much quicker than anticipated," he surmised. Only a brief nod was given by Wesker as they stood in the open doorway to Jill's room. the woman lay under the thin sheet and was asleep once more. In sleep, her face looked so serene and peaceful...

" Her temperature will remain a few degrees lower than a normal body temperature for a long time, possibly her whole life. And the pigmentation of her hair and skin has been nearly decimated. She could tan...but her hair will remain that way naturally from now on," Roger commented. These trivial changes due to her stay in cryostasis was of no consequence. Nothing a little tanning and hair dye couldn't fix...if he cared.

"That will be all," Wesker said. The doctor hesitated, biting his tongue. He wanted to tell Wesker to allow Jill to sleep and be at peace. Tomorrow morning she would have to eat her liquid breakfast and go to therapy again. Roger nodded reluctantly and walked down the hallway to the nurses' station. Wesker eyed the man going away from the corner of his vision before entering and shutting the door. Slowly he approached her bedside and she continued to sleep, unaware her enemy was a foot away from her.  
Wesker had much to think about. Now that Jill was declared unusable for Uroboros testing, what could they do with her? They could test the new discovery they found from the tests on the Progenitor virus, the P30. The tests they done on rats proved the animal could be granted inhuman strength and speed like himself...with one difference. The P30 allowed one to control that rat however they pleased. A simple command, such as telling it to eat its food to telling it to jump off the lab table was completed without a fight. The disadvantage? It seemed to wear off quickly. Given Jill's natural immunity to variants of the virus, he pondered if her body would reject the P30's effects too. But...that wouldn't be until she was rehabilitated. Red eyes watched the machines monitoring her vitals. Blood pressure was normal, pulse was a bit slow, probably due to her sleeping, and her temperature as the doctor said was a little low...hovering between 94 and 95 degrees. Wesker folded his arms as he stared at her peaceful expression.

"I know you're there..." Jill muttered quietly through clenched teeth. Wesker's eyes widened a bit as he unfolded his arms, continuing to stare at her.

"Really? Without seeing me come in?" He quipped.

"No...even the most common human can sense pure evil," she spat, turning her head and body away from the source of his voice. Even now she was still pissed at him...but he knew she had good reason.

"I'm heartbroken you think that, Jill," he said calmly, contrasting against the very words he spoke. Both had their senses of sarcasm and both wanted to vent.

"You know you're blonde now, right?" Wesker said out of the blue. That made Jill's eyes widen. What did he mean by that? All this time she been so focused on the doctors, therapy and the day she got strong enough to rip Wesker a new one. That she did not even notice the changes of her own body. A quisitive hand grabbed a tuff of her hair and pulled it into eyesight and she screamed. The woman sat up in bed with widened blue eyes, jaw moving to say something but nothing coming out. The silent man left her bedside into the private bathroom and emerged with a handheld mirror. As Jill snatched it away from him, she stared in disbelief at the reflection, numb fingers touching the platinum blonde strands.

"Wh...What the HELL have you done to my hair?" she screamed at him.

"I done nothing...having you placed in the cyrostasis...has changed the pigment of your hair and skin...permanently," he informed the distraught woman. Fury was building up in her eyes as she threw the mirror.

"Shit, why don't you go and slap some sunglasses on my face too?"

"Ah that is a wonderful idea. You could be like my twin, Jill. How exciting," he said with a grin, knowing his casual tone would get on her nerves. Wesker was right as she let out a furious scream. All of her strength wanted to launch herself at her but after the grueling day in therapy, trying to attack him would only further damage herself. Jill was at least that smart. The small outbursts she displayed served to give Wesker a wide grin, amused by her emotions.

"Now...Jill. I have come here to check personally on you and your vitals. To make sure you are in good health. Having accertained that, I'll be leaving," Wesker said as he stood from the chair, and was fixing to leave.

"Wesker, wait..." came her much softer voice. It stopped the man in his tracks but he didn't turn around. His head inclined slightly to the side to show he was listening.

"...What do you plan to do with me? Why keep me alive for so long? It can't be just to get back at Chris for ruining your plans...Even I know you better than that. You are not that low," she said with full honesty. She was partially correct. Wesker was not above seeking vengeance...but he could do that in many other ways. Jill was precious to Chris, but so was his sister, Claire. He could have gone after her but he didn't. If Jill figured out the real reason he kept her alive all this time, she would go back into death and stay there. That would tear her apart from the very core. There was no need to rush to that precious moment just yet. Wesker didn't answer her and walked out of the room to let her ponder the answer herself. The door closed behind him and he said nothing to the nurses and doctor as he went down the winding hallways and got on the elevator. He had to meet with Excella and see if she did as he asked and called Irving. Everything was coming together nicely...


	13. A New Nightmare

Chapter 13   
A New Nightmare

The snow was fluttering down from a dark sky as Chris and Claire sat in the car. Bright, red lights flashed before them and two booms prevented them from driving. A train was rolling slowly by on the tracks. Cargo trailers rolled by at a sluggish pace, their logos and countless graffiti covering them. The car hummed softly as heat spewed from the vents, keeping the brother and sister warm. The two were on their way to a nice dinner in town to enjoy themselves. It was grating Chris' nerves when Claire nagged that he needed to get out more and try and enjoy himself. The psychiatrists had said he should not blame himself for the incident and put it behind him. Jill Valentine, a woman he had worked with side by side for years and years, was gone. These doctors could say what they want but they didn't know what he and Jill went through hunting Albert Wesker.

"Oh great, the train stopped..." Claire complained. Eyes drifted up to stare at the trailer in front of them, bearing the Tricell logo on it. Chris was very familiar with the company, always being reminded they funded the BSAA and so on. Since Umbrella's downfall too, their profits had tripled. The two companies had always been at odds in the market and usually ran neck and neck. Once Umbrella finally folded after being found guilty of their crimes against humanity, Tricell had no competition and monopolized the market. Tricell's board was appalled to learn about its rival's crimes and vouched to help in eradicating the existence of bio-weapons all over the world. The BSAA received funds from Tricell, and generous ones at that. Still...the experience Chris has had in his life, he didn't trust any pharmaceutical company anymore.

"Chris? Everything okay?" his sister asked warily. Chris would suffer these episodes where he would simply stare out ahead of him, his eyes glazed ad unblinking. The man shook his head and smiled at her. Often he did this to not worry his sister, knowing she would begin to harp on him.

"Yeah, just waiting for this train," he said. Thumbs rubbed the steering wheel as he sat back in his seat and saw as the train jerked and began to move again at a slow crawl. As the car rolled over the tracks with some jostling, he could not help but think he been wrong all this time to believe Jill and Wesker were dead. No personal effects, no blood trail, nothing to be found...no body, or body parts. Everytime this was mentioned to Claire or others, they only gave him that pitiful, sympathetic look...feeling sorry for him that he could not accept that ill died. Chris knew Jill...and deep down, he knew they were not dead. There were just too many holes and not enough evidence to even prove their death. Somewhere...he knew she had to be alive. No matter what BSAA and his doctors say. And if she was...he could only pray she was being well taken care of.

**{February 7th, 2008. 4:00 P.M.}**

A week had passed. Daily visits from Wesker were increasingly irritating for the woman. It was always different times too, so she could not predict when that demon would be coming around. A few times had been when she was in the middle of her therapy sessions with Dr. Grenik, and had stayed a while, watching her struggle to even stand. It must have been quite amusing for him, because she always saw a slight curl of a smirk in the corner of his lips, as if mocking her situation. It only served to give her more fuel to walk again so she could have a rematch with the bastard. In one week's time, she managed to take a few steps without an aid before crumpling to her knees in pain. Dr Grenik had protested her stubborn and dangerous will, continuously reminding her it would do more harm than good.

"Ms. Valentine, if you keep on stressing yourself like that, you're just going to end up ruining all your nerves and tendons!" he whined and sat her down on a chair. Nothing he said would deter Jill from her goals, even if it was decent medical advice.

"Jill," she said quietly. Water was given to her to sip on and help refresh her.

"What?"

"Just call me Jill...I don't want to be called Ms. Valentine," she muttered softly. It made the doctor smile some as he knelt there looking at her. Jill wanted a familiar basis with this man, and every time someone called her Ms. Valentine like that, she was reminded of painful times. When she was in S.T.A.R.S. and a particular captain had called her that exactly. Patting her on the knee, he stood to full height and declared her session over. It had been well over two hours, and Wesker hadn't visited yet. It would probably mean he was too busy to check in during the daytime. Around evening, the doctor expected him though. No one came here at night and Wesker never missed a day visiting her to check her health himself. Given what happened to Jill, he supposed Wesker was only keeping an eye on his "investments" as Grenik saw it. Grenik was not wholly aware of what was going on, but he had the sickening feeling it was for nothing good.

"Let's get you back to the room, and some broth. I imagine in about two weeks we could move you to semi-solid foods. Jell-O, apple sauce and the like," he said cheerfully. It made Jill happy she was making progress, but she still felt she was not recovering fast enough. Jill moved herself into the wheelchair and she waited for Grenik to get her back to the room.  
The nurses and the doctor turned out to not be so bad. They were helpful, and never showed any hostility towards her. Frowns always presented themselves if Wesker's name was mentioned. The place was happy, calm and content unless that man was around. It was the only thing that put Jill at ease.

Jill was helped into her bed and laid there, letting the tingling sensation race through her. Soon her body would be hurting from the stress she put it through. Grenik had disappeared to retrieve some food for her. As she laid there staring at the TV, she watched as the news flashed around. It was apparent they were in Africa, most of the broadcast in Swahili. From what she saw though, it appeared a civil war was happening in some small, derelict town. It wasn't surprising, with CNN always broadcasting the strife Africa was suffering. Bloodied women and men being helped by medical teams painted a rather horrific picture. Jill's fingers grasped the remote and turned the TV off, not wanting to see that sort of news at the moment.

"Here you go," Grenik said as he came in with a tray. A pitcher of water, empty glass and bowl of steaming chicken broth balanced on the metal tray when he sat it on the small rolling table. A smile was offerred to the doctor for his kindness as she pulled it towards her. The spoon dipped into the broth and lifted a scoop to her lips. The liquid was hot but not enough to scald her tongue. The doctor didn't need to have her hooked to any vitals lately, as her condition was stable. All she needed was therapy which did not require the use of monitoring equipment. The door swung open and both looked up. The pleasant atmosphere of the air was ruined by the new visitor. The shaded face stared at the two and Grenik stood to leave. The door shut behind the man as he left and Jill only glared daggers at Wesker.

"Good evening, Ms. Valentine. You seem to be perking up," he commented as he stood by the bed. A rough hand took her wrist and felt her pulse, then a light shined in her eyes to test their dilation. jill hated to be prodded by Wesker like this when she was defenseless. A small notebook had been in his hand with a pen clipped to it. It was flipped open as he scrawled some notes into the book.

"Are those...records you're keeping on me?" she asked incredulously. The pen's movement did not stop or pause when she asked the question and instead, continued on until he was done. The notebook was slapped close and he looked at her.

"Did Dr. Grenik tell you what happened coming out of that capsule?" he asked.

"No...he only told me I flatlined and you barged in, and..." Jill hated to admit this, because this was the second time the bastard helped keep her alive. "And...saved my life."

"He didn't tell you how, did he?" Wesker pressed on and Jill shook her head, glaring at the prestine white sheets over her lap.

" Someone tampered with your controls...they reduced the levels of clathrates and hydrates down to zero, which you need in order to stay alive in the cryostasis status," he said. Jill's head snapped up at him when he said that. Someone wanted her dead? All along she thought Wesker wanted her and Chris dead...but here he was saving her life a second time, while someone else was trying to cause her harm. Excella did come to mind...given the fits she threw when Wesker was paying more attention towards her.

"Well...I can only think of one person who didn't seem to like me coming here...but I hardly think I warrant her hostility," she hissed. A soft chuckle rolled from Wesker as he took a seat, watching her.

" Do not tell me Chris' stupidity had rubbed off on you...I am quite sure you know why...recall what happened when she visited your cell, around the time we first arrived and tried to escape," he helped. Jill thought about it. Wesker had given her quite a beating in the elevator for trying to escape. Afterwards, he demanded answers to what Excella was doing...and she remembered with stark reality. Excella had indicated with her interrogationshe felt Jill had a...connection to Wesker. It had disgusted her at first and now the same sickening feeling was reoccurring.

" She is...jealous," she concluded. A single nod confirmed her theory and Jill gave a frustrated growl.

"Well that's stupid! You tried to kill Chris! Made my life and his living hell! Why would she ever think or let it cross her mind I would...EVER-" Jill was cut short by a raised, gloved hand.

"Allow me to put this is lay terms...she doesn't care if you hate my guts and want to paint walls with my blood, Jill. The fact is...you've known me longer and better than she has known me. And that frustrates her. All you are...is another female in her way. And considering you are my enemy under my observation, you have my attention. All that means...is attention away from her," Wesker explained. "You are a woman...you ought to understand the idea of jealousy."

"...So why the hell do you put up with her?" she yelled.

"...Well. She is a big part of my plan...which is none of your business," he stated coldly. Getting him to divulge into the details of his plans was not going to work, no matter what she did. Thinking about what Wesker did say, she had to smile some and laugh.

"Wait...she is "vital" to this plan you have? Is that right? So you're whoring yourself out to that woman just so you can accomplish some stupid-" Jill's throat instantly closed shut as a powerful hand grabbed it and clamped down so hard, Jill could not get a wisp of air into her lungs. Nails teared at his wrist as she gasped for breath. Insulting him had not been the best idea she had so far, but she did get her point across...and it infuriated Wesker for her to talk of him in such ways.

"Be careful what you say, Jill...because she isn't the only woman that has a big part in my plans for the world..." he eluded. The soft breath on her ear tickled her and caused a series of goosbumps to break out over her flesh. The hand had stopped choking her and a big gasp of air inflated her chest. The same gloved hand that had squeezed her throat, now placed tender caresses along her jawline.

" You do too," he said finally and stood. The man took five long strides and slammed the door on his way out. Jill's slender hand felt her throat, the tenderness apparent the moment her fingertips grazed it. During her retort, she hadn't even seen him move. She'd made the fatal error of blinking and never saw him coming. It resulted in her receiving bruises and enduring his chilling message. Those words scared her more than anything. How would she have a big part in his plans? What did she have that Roger Grenik told her to keep hidden? According to what Wesker said,he already knew of it...but she had not the slightest clue what it was. It was doubtful he would ever tell her either...and she was sure the doctors were sworn (threatened) to secrecy about the subject. Whatever it was, Jill knew that the world was about to face a new nightmare.

**{4:15 P.M.}**

Emotions. If it was one thing he showed lack of control of, it was that. It did not go to say Wesker would gush at anything he liked, or cry during a sad movie...but he would definitely show his fury whenever something or someone hit some raw nerves. That fury alone earned respect and fear from those who knew him. The car door slammed shut with more force than necessary. Gloved hands squeezed the wheel tightly, a slight bend developing. It took Wesker a few moments to calm down after enduring what Jill had to say. It was an outright insult. While Excella did grate his nerves, he had respect for her. The woman was indeed intelligent, not having gone through school so quickly as she had. As the car sped down the dirt road, kicking up a thick cloud of dust, Wesker let his mind wander and dissect Jill's words.  
Bringing up the subject that Excella was jealous of her, had frustrated Jill. Excella was indeed a beautiful woman. She was rich, intelligent and had good looks. It was what every woman envied more than anything was that combination. Wesker could not deny Jill had looks either...but she lacked wealth and...well he could not say intelligence either. She did used to dabble on the other side of the law. That required a level of intelligence and skill to elude pursuers. If anything, Jill ought to be jealous of Excella, even if it were small amounts...yet all Jill held was anger and frustration for the reasons Excella held her in contempt for. For Jill, it was ludicrous to think she had any "personal" information about Wesker...or perhaps...  
The next thought to occur was that Jill was...flattered? She had not thrown anything at him this time, and she was holding conversation with him. It may have occurred to her that she had the power to hold Wesker's attention away from Excella, and thus, a sense of empowerment over her. The rage that Jill harbored for Excella though was not because of two girls fighting for a man...for Excella that might have been the case. For Jill, it was developed for Excella to ever assume such things about the two of them. But maybe she secretly prided herself on the ability to have a woman like Excella who has everything, to be jealous of someone more common like herself.  
As Wesker tried to decipher what these two women were thinking and what they meant behind their words and body language, the more he calmed down. Jill did seem upset when she said he was "whoring" himself out. Wesker did not see it like that...Jill could only see the surface of the partnership. Looking deeper, she would realize he only used everyone around him. Excella was no exception. Neither was Tricell or Ricardo. All they were, were tools to achieve his needs. In other words, they were expendable once their usefulness was gone. Behind it all, he was the only one pulling the strings and controlling how everything was turning out. Jill...she was going to be something useful still yet...but as he examined the animosity of the girls, and their dispositions, he was coming up with a new plan of approach for Jill. A dark grin curved his lips as he raced off through the dirt road, while the sun was leaving only a red sky behind. Jill would be in for a few surprises once she was fully rehabilitated.


	14. Out of Routine

Chapter 14  
Out of Routine

**{April 4th, 2008. 12:34 P.M.}**  
Weeks, turned into months. Therapy was becoming unbearable as Jill grew frustrated with how slow her progress was going. According to Grenik, her recovery was remarkable, but Jill saw it otherwise. The sooner she was healed, the better. Over the months, she could now walk unassisted but she could not do anything streneous such as running or jumping. This was unsatisfactory for Jill who wanted to escape as soon as she was able to do so. The daily visits from Wesker only served to crack her spirit further to its core. Having his hands taking her pulse and continuously writing down her vitals in that damned little book of his was a torture. Jill was prepared for the ritualistic torture at noon as she lay in her hospital bed. She'd come to develop a mask devoid of any traces of emotion when he came by...but this mask would shatter when she realized Wesker would not come today. Instead...it was someone she felt more unsafe with than Wesker himself.

The loud click of heels signaled the arrival of Excella Gionne. Grenik was following behind her with a scowl on his face. Wesker he could deal with but this woman...well, everything about her annoyed him. As short of a fuse as Wesker had and being on the losing end of it, he wondered how this woman managed to stay alive. The clipboard was being carried in her arm as she proudly strolled down the hallway with a dazzling smile. Something had her in a good mood today despite the assignment she been given.

"Mr. Wesker had given us expressive orders to not allow anyone but himself in Ms. Valen-"

"Excuse me, Mr. Grenik, but it is 'Mr. Wesker' that told me to come down here in the first place. He wants the daily vitals for Jill Valentine and to deliver them right to his hands," she said firmly. Roger Grenik through his hands in the air and sighed angrily as the woman barged into Jill's room with Grenik on her heels. As the woman approached Jill's bedside where her bewildered blue eyes flickered to Roger who only shrugged his shoulders and grimaced. When it came down to it, he had no authority to deny her if Wesker allowed her entry.

"Ok, Ms. Valentine. I will need your vitals for the day. Albert wants them," she said. Excella sat down next to the bed and hummed as she wrote down Jill's pulse by lightly squeezing her wrist. Pulling the blood pressure machine towards her, she took the small cuff off and indicated for Jill's arm. Jill refused to move, only staring at the Italian, stunned. Grenik was chewing on a toothpick and keeping a wary eye on the executive.

"Come on, now," Excella chirped. Blonde brows furrowed at her as she slowly gave Excella her arm. Should she be expecting the bitch to stab her with a needle containing unknown substances? No, that was more Wesker's calling. The cuff was wrapped snugly around her bare upper arm and secured with the velcro. A stethoscope was grabbed from the small stand the machine was attached to and put on. The end was placed at the inside joint of the elbow as the cuff was beginning to inflate. Not to complain about skipping a day seeing Wesker's smug face, but she had grown so used to him doing it...this was out of routine and what she was used to. It would appear this woman forgot Jill had given her a nice rabbit punch to her face and broken her nose. The cheerful hum continued as she stopped taking the blood pressure and put the machine and stethoscope away.

"Why are you being so kind?" Jill asked suddenly. Did Wesker feed her some bullshit that made Excella forget the animosity she had towards her? A smile and musical laugh were her answer as notes were being taken on the clipboard. A sparkle in her green eyes allured to the idea that Jill was now off her radar. Still the Italian gave her no answer as she walked away. Grenik watched to make sure the woman left and got to the lift. When Grenik came back to her room, he already had the phone in hand, intending to speak directly to Wesker. It was his job to oversee Jill's recovery and didn't feel Excella Gionne had to be in any part of this.

"Sir. Yes...I had assumed you are busy, but this is about your...orders. You wanted me to oversee Jill's health, safety and recovery. We were expecting you to come and get her vitals...yes...yes. I understand. I simply wanted to confirm Ms. Gionne was the one you had sent to retrieve her vitals for you...why am I asking? Well...the woman made Jill very uneasy. No...Jill behaved herself. She just..." Grenik cut off when he saw Jill's expression. It was cruel, as she stared at him. Apparently she was catching on to what he was going to say, and she was silently protesting he say no such thing. Now he had to choose his words carefully.

"Normally does not visit the facility here," Grenik finished. Jill let out a sigh of relief as she laid back in the bed, glad Grenik did not say anything more to give Wesker the idea that she was going to be a liability if Excella was to show up once more. A few nods and a stiff good bye was given before Grenik hung up.

"It appears...he did send that woman here. It is odd, because he left me in charge of you...and told me no one was to see you but myself and himself...it's why I was suspicious," Grenik told her. The two stared at one another before Grenik crossed his arms and let out a long sigh.

"Why did you not want her near you? What's the story?" he asked.

"Nothing," Jill replied tersely. It was a touchy subject and gave Grenik the hint he should not pursue the subject. The doctor nodded and offered a smile before saying he would have dinner brought in for her. once he disappeared, Jill closed her eyes and rested against the back of the bed. It was in a propped up position and cradled her as she rested. Excella had been so cruel to her over something so ridiculous that it baffled her. While she never had any sort of romantic past with Wesker, it bothered the woman to think she had Wesker's attention. He himself even mentioned it. For her to come here all chipper and unbothered with Jill meant Wesker done something to improve her attitude.

**{12: 44 P.M.}**  
The phone was placed back on his waist as Wesker walked out of the oil plant. He jumped into a dusty, black car to go off to the hotel. What Grenik said when he called summed up what he theorized would happen. Sending Excella to take Jill's vitals was a test for both women. After having a stern talk and spending a lot of time assuring Excella she was the most beautiful creature on this planet (and only he could say this with a straight face), and with a bit more flattery, she agreed to not be rude to Jill anymore. To test her, he sent her to get the vitals. Wesker could have done this if he wanted to, but he also wanted to gauge Jill's reactions.  
According to Grenik's call, Jill had been set at an unease with Excella around, even though she was in very high spirits. There was no harm done to Jill. Wesker had been visiting the past few months, around the same time to take those vitals and record them. The theory he had about this situation was Excella would obey if only she was lavished with flattering attention, and Jill was so used to him visiting her, that a visit from Excella interrupted the routine. Neither spoke when he came by, but growing so used to it, she was conditioned to expect him.  
This meant something else. When she is conditioned to expect him, no matter how stoic she appeared, her body was going through a chemical change. Adrenaline was developing, and flooding through her veins. Just as Pavlov's dogs would salivate when conditioned to eat at the sound of a bell, when that time approached that adrenaline would begin to develop. Defenses would begin to kick in and begin to produce the emotionless facade she always wore. The baseline of that reaction to the clock was she knew he would be walking in for her. She would be expecting him. One could almost say she wanted him to show up, at least more so than Excella. That was the key point...it made him grin as he now had the information obtained that was crucial if he wanted to move forward with the plans he had set for Jill. What he wanted to use her for she would definitely not agree willingly to...not unless he had her mutual trust. This was the beginning of earning that trust.

**{7:30 P.M.}**  
Dreams haunted Jill once more. The sound of rain pounding the ground around her woke her from the hazy state she was in. The rumble of thunder overhead sent very small tremors through the dirt. Rational thought began to come back to her as she tried to assess her surroundings by sound and touch alone. The heavy rain had drenched every inch of her and made her feel cold under the night temperature. The legs rested on the cold, sodden ground. The only source of warmth was the lump that she was lying over. Eyes stayed closed as she strained to hear anything. Sirens. Blades whipping the air. Any sign of rescue on their way...but the only sounds around her was the thunder and rain. The lethargy she suffered was instantly overcome as the warm object under her let out a loud cough. Blue eyes snapped open as she gazed upon the monstrosity before her. The black trenchcoat was gone, having been ripped off him during their struggle in mid-air. The shirt and pants were ripped and soaked in rain and blood. Still he breathed. Still, his heart beat. The unabashed sacrifice she made to sacrifice herself so to seal Wesker's fate had backfired. Both of them laid in the mud alive and broken. Tears were hidden by the falling rain as she realized that maybe there was no way to defeat Wesker...

Jill summoned her little reserve of strength to push herself off his torso. She sat on her heels and stared at him. A large bowie knife was lying in the palm of his hand, lightly clutched. Jill struggled and climbed over his body, carefully straddling his stomach with her badly bruised legs. Pain seared through her but she was determined to finish the deed. Wet, injured hands grasped the bowie knife and put it to Wesker's throat. The more she stared at him struggling to come to, the more she realized something else.  
Wesker was not immortal. Blood was thick around his injured eye, and his blonde locks that were always slicked back neatly were in such disarray and soaked in mud. Even the specks of dirt and blood on his face gave him a more human face. The pressure of the sharp blade to his throat and her weight must have triggered him to open his one good eye and gaze at her. No sudden attack to throw her off, no snide remarks...he simply gazed at her. The somber look he doted on her stilled her hand, pitching Jill into a sense of wonderment. The injury sustained to his eye marred the normally perfect, stoic features of the man she knew for so long as her enemy. It made her smile as he coughed, cursing her for the fate bestowed upon him. How humilating it must be to brought down so far by a normal woman, and be lying under her, broken. To known she was the one to have brought him down this far, it empowered her.  
Along the time she was feeling smug bringing him to this point, he had managed to get the large knife from her hand. Jill noticed and went to grab it, but instead of stabbing her with it, or slashing her...he cast it out of reach for the both of them. It was an odd move for him to do. He could have just easily ended her life by wrenching it from her and impaling her. Why didn't he? confused eyes swam in her skull and focused best they could on Wesker's face...he had a shadow of a grin there, as the same hand that cast away the sharp blade, reached up and slipped into her wet, knotted hair.

"You won this time," he told her. Jill felt his fingers raking against her scalp. With all that had happened, she slumped down and laid atop his body. It was warm and she heard his heartbeat in her head. Steady, healthy...alive. She lay limp for a while, just glad she saved Chris. While she didn't know what was to become of her now, as long as Chris was safe, that was all that mattered. Rain pelted against their battered bodies. So many different emotions were surging through Jill. Hate, rage, pain, sorrow, disappointment, shock and somewhere...embarrassment. For Wesker to admit someone else won over him was to be taken as a well earned accomplishment deserving of praise. The kind of petting against her scalp with his fingers was so odd of an action for him. A muddied, gloved hand slipped down to the nape of her neck and cradled her head right below the ponytail. Who was watching them? How could this situation be taken by an onlooker?

"...Wesker..." she breathed his name, more questioning in tone. A half hearted grin greeted her as his hand slowly pulled Jill's head closer to his. For him, this was the only woman who's been able to take him this far to the edge in battle. The only one to take him by surprise. After throwing her, he had thought he disabled her enough to prevent her from interfering with his and Chris' fight. He'd been wrong and ended up like this. Broken, beaten and under this woman.  
"Don't pity me," he said finally, his lips so close to hers. "I do not like others' pity."  
A lump swelled in Jill's throat that she swallowed down. Were these dying words? Or were these just a stern order for his enemy?

"I'll never pity you, Wesker," she responded, her voice cracked. This answer was full of hatred and worry, an uncanny mixture of emotions for someone who was supposed to despise the person they were talking to. Feeling his lips scale her own in a teasing gesture made Jill's body go rigid. Heat was felt in her cheeks as he made the movement...yet she did nothing to protest. Whether it was because of the fatigue, she was too stunned or maybe...in some sense, she enjoyed it, no one would know. Hands slid up his chest as she felt herself cradled to his form, throwing caution to the wind. She didn't stop to question herself why Wesker would dote such personal affection on her...especially not when he yanked her hair enough to pull her face up and kiss her. The kiss sent an electrical shock down through her whole system of nerves, and then pooled in her lower abdomen. The kiss was simple at first, but turned more feral, more needing. Jill pressed closer to his body, her moans muffled by his lips. Hands raked her back as she arched into him, her own hands tugging at the black shirt he wore. What was this insatiable lust she developed and why for him? Hands cradled his face as she kissed him deeper, feeling his own arms winding tight around her torso. A stray hand pressed down firmly on her rear, forcing her hips to meet his in front. It ellicted a moan from her, as she lost herself. This man...Albert Wesker, was her sworn enemy. Yet...in this moment, she could not resist the advances.  
Wesker's advances were becoming steadily more urgent, as she felt his hips raise and buck against hers. To feel the sheer size behind those pants alarmed her...yet the aspect of having him all to herself was so deliciously gratifying. She wanted it. She wanted to feel his power driving into her and be cloaked in it. Both grabbed into one another's hair, tugging and pulling, their pent up desires finally blooming under the rain and possessing them.

"STOP!"

The scream echoed through the hallways and her room. The sound of shoes could be heard racing towards her as Grenik burst into the room. Jill was shaken, paled and the perfect portrait of fear. Fists were as white as the sheets they were curled into. Grenik's presence was not registered as she stammered, sweat dripping from her brow and her body shaking from convulsions. Grenik ran to her side immediately, taking a pulse and trying to talk to her.  
"Jill, calm down! Just...a few deep breaths...any pain? What is wrong?" he said, trying to ascertain she was not suffering from an ailment or relapsing from being taken from cryostasis. As she calmed down, the pulse slowed. Everything was beginning to appear normal...but something definitely spooked her. No one had access to this room without coming through that lift. The nurses were off now, and he himself had been napping in the vacant room next to Jill. It had become his living quarters since Wesker wanted around the clock surveillance on her.

"What happened?" he asked. Jill wetted her mouth to try and speak and managed to only say she had a nightmare. This had happened once or twice before where she woke from night terrors. This one was the loudest, most violent thus far...and he wondered if it was from the events of today that spurred them. Shame filled eyes did not want to look at Grenik. Assuring the doctor she was fine and she wanted to sleep, he let her be. That was almost too much...if she had not woken up, she would have been mentally scarred from having such a dream about him. What brought that on? Why was she dreaming of Wesker in such lewd ways? Nothing was making sense to her anymore and it was beginning to frustrate her. Could it be...the simplistic fact that she was around him constantly, and this was her unconsciousness playing tricks on her? Fueled by Excella's unwarranted dislike? Jill just could not figure out the answer...


	15. The Results

Chapter 15   
The Results

**{April 5th, 2008. 2:00 A.M.}**  
The night brought no solace. The warm blankets provided for her, the dimmed lights and the silence did nothing to relax Jill as she struggled to stay awake, for fear that dream would revisit her. Tired blue eyes would stay closed longer each time they blinked and she would nod off, only to jerk awake. Jill was no scientist or psychologist, but the basic understanding of dreams were that they are conjurations of what one unconsciously desires or fears. There was no explaining the reason why she began to warm up to Wesker in that dream, giving in to his touch and kiss. Trying to fathom why she liked it had made her sick after Grenik left. She hobbled to the bathroom and purged her stomach of the meager liquid dinner she had received earlier. Despite her valiant attempts to stay awake through the night, she finally succumbed to her body's need for sleep in early morning. The dream she so feared did not visit her again, and her world left in the dark. It could be considered boring, but it would be more enjoyed than the company that awaited her when she woke.

**{12:50 P.M.}**  
Eyes began to finally respond to the voices in the room. The voices echoed in her head during her semi-unconsciousness, only growing more clear and concise. One voice she didn't want to see the speaker, and the other was her own doctor and new friend, Grenik.

" Sir. Are you trying to kill her? This is her day off of therapy...to let her muscles and bones relax and adapt to the strain we have put them through the past six days. Even that is pushing it," Grenik argued. Most people never dared to argue with Wesker, and it was what separated Grenik from the rest of the doctors. The others feared Wesker and sided with anything he said. Grenik had somehow retained that belief that doctors should look out for the best interest of their patients, and was not corrupted by the figures he earned or could earn.

"Doctor Grenik. Jill is more durable than you give her credit for...and I know this first hand. I want her in therapy seven days a week. Are we clear?"

For once Jill agreed with Wesker. It was nice to have one day alone to herself, but even she wished to be able to run again. If it meant there was pain to endure, she would do it. After all the gunshot wounds, being infected with the T-virus, slammed around by Wesker and falling down a cliff...one more day of that grueling therapy could not hurt much.

"You want me to look out for her health, sir? I am doing that. I...have to disagree. I can't have her-"

"And I am not asking your opinion. The sooner she is well, the better. That is an order, and I expect it to be followed or...there will be consequences," he threatened. The threat shook Grenik and shut him up. With reluctance he agreed to Wesker's terms. It went against his grain but Wesker paid him, and he also had the power to end everything for him...it was why he hated this man to the bitter end. Grenik only stared Wesker down a brief moment before walking from the room. While Grenik had befriended Jill, he knew that man would rip him apart if he insisted on staying. It was how Wesker always wanted his visits. Alone with that woman. The silence in the room caused a nervous air. Only one pair of footsteps left. To quell the jitters running through the veins, Jill clenched her jaw. Counting numbers slowly in her head was to help still the nervous pulse. Over time, she had trained herself to appear emotionless anytime he visited but...after the events in her dream, all she wanted was to never see him again lest the dream haunt her once more. If that dreamhad not occurred, pulling off this charade she was still asleep in the bed would have been ideally easier.

"You're not fooling anyone, Jill. You're awake," he said, his voice suddenly so close to her. The closure made her nerves jump before her brain could process the order to control the impulse. It was the only sign he needed to verify she was indeed awake. Responding to his voice only proved her faulty acting.

"Open your eyes," he ordered. If she was already figured out, it was futile to try and keep the charade...yet Jill did not obey and kept her eyes shut. It was taken as a challenge by Wesker, who only smirked. There were plenty of ways to invoke a response from her...and given the upset in the routine visits that reportedly made her edgy, he had one tactic he was curious to how she'd react. Raising a hand over her body, his fingertips lowered to her forehead. The gloved tips ghosted over her brow, down the bridge of her nose, her soft lips, chin, following the curve down her throat and onward. The moment the fingertips stroked over her collarbone and headed further down, he heard a hitch in her breath. Pausing only for the briefest moment, the fingertips continued on their journey. The moment they smoothed down her cleavage, the woman sprung up alive with energy. Slender hands gripped his wrist and tried to snap it as she let out a feral growl, fire in her eyes. The feeble attempt to inflict harm was avoided as he wrenched his wrist from her grasp with amazing strength. With not even a second to realize what happened, iron hard hands clamped Jill's wrists down to the bed and he leaned in her face, those hidden eyes glowing behind the smoky sunglasses.

"That was very foolish, Jill...is that any way to treat the person who saved your life? Twice?" he spat. Jill recoiled before lifting her head and snapping at him with her teeth.

"You pervert!" she shouted at him. A frown crossed the man's features as Jill calmed down, wondering if what she said was just an invitation for his wrath.

"What an interesting insult, "Ms. Valentine". Every swear word at your disposal, every sort of insult free to use...and you use that term. I do not think this has anything to do with my fingertips barely grazing your sensitive area there," he countered in a soft whisper. The color in Jill's face blanched even more until she was paper white. Wide eyes stared at him, holding fear and worry. What had been said had an effect on her to cause the fear...when only a moment ago she was trying to break his wrist and bite him.

"Did I hit a nerve?" he asked musingly. " Or perhaps...my absence had some effect on you?" he whispered at her ear. The sharp intake of air was an answer even though she refuted to speak. It spoke yes.

"I wonder what kind of effect it had...seeing as you are particularly edgy, I would theorize it was not very pleasant, was it?" he urged further. Hearing her swallow down a lump in her throat was another positive answer to his question. Did she realize she was answering him without speaking? The woman should probably take a few lessons in just how the body language can speak more volumes than any spoken word.

"I was told...you had grown edgy around Excella's visit...were you expecting me instead? If so...then that is almost akin to saying you wanted me here," he pushed. It was enough to cause Jill to grit her teeth so hard that one suffered a minor crack in its enamel. A singular tear developed at the outer corner of her eyes, threatening to spill over.

"Still...that is hardly the reason for you to develop such nervous reactions from my presence now. A little change in the routine didn't cause you to develop this jumpy attitude. You probably had a bad dream, didn't you?" he murmured.

"Shut up," she said softly. The shivers had stopped but the abrupt, cold change in attitude indicated this was a raw nerve. Getting her to finally speak to him in an attempt to make him stop talking meant the subject he was circling around was on point.

"I'm right then, " he concluded. "You had a dream involving me."

If he was expecting her to tell him about the dream, he would have been sadly mistaken. It was hard enough for her to accept the fact she had those thoughts, let alone have somene like Wesker know them and gloat about it. Despite Jill not saying any words though, he was hitting every nerve perfectly, as a musician does on an instrument. A deep set glare bore into his screened eyes, conveying the hatred she felt for him. Wesker refused to move off the side of her bed where he sat, watching her.

"I'm not saying anything," she said finally. That smug smile of his tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked down slightly.

"Oh. You don't have to, Jill. I can already tell what kind of dream it was," he said matter-of-factly. It interested Jill in what he thought he knew. Dreams could not be shared between any one person. How could he know?

"First. We have fought quite a few times. Dreaming of me fighting you, hurting you...killing you, that would not have shaken you so deeply. You are rather bothered by my presence right now, indicated by your higher heartrate, and erratic breathing. Avoidance of me is another hint that this dream was rather...embarrassing. Am I correct so far?..." he paused. When there was only silence, he smirked.

"I take that as a yes. So I rule out anything that involves conflict and fighting...continuing on, it could not have been something...comic. Or you would be laughing at me or sniggering if you were reminded of that dream. Certainly nothing sad or you would be more solemn, more calm in your demeanor. Only thing I can theorize is it was something of the...erotic nature," he said with the hint of disgust. A visible twitch marred Jill's perfect, stoic mask.

"How close am I to being right?" he bragged, confident in his assumptions. It made Jill grind her teeth in frutration. Was she that transparent? The fury burned brighter in her eyes but her rational mind knew it was futile to try and attack him. Fists curled into the sheets, the nails threatening to rip them apart.

"Get away...from me," she grounded out through her bared teeth.

"Hn. Amazing..." he drawled, looking to the white ceiling tiles. No heed was taken to her demands, as he didn't budge, appearing to ignore her. This ignorance ruffled her more as she sat up to push him away. The blonde male was pushed into a sitting position on the edge of the bed as Jill sprung up.

"Was sending Excella here...an experiment on my emotional reactions?" she blurted.

"Perceptive...you are correct, Jill. I did. And I have the answers I needed from the little experiment. For both parties," he concluded for her. The last remaining shred of rational thought fled Jill as she went after him. The stress of having come to death twice, only to be saved twice by her sworn enemy, then confined to his mercy...it made her livid. Fists were raised and aimed for his face. In the moment her body sprung into action, her wrists were caught in a vice and forced back into the bed. No matter how valiantly she struggled to free herself, it was pointless.

"Now, now...I can't have you inflicting any more harm onto yourself. You're going to rest up before your therapy sessions, and as I am sure you heard, it will now be every day of the week. You _will_ listen, are we clear?" the dark, deep voice threatened. A silence passed as she squinted her eyes shut, wishing this all away. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes from the pressure, her body stiff as it remained pinned. The faint touch of his lips to her ear made her gasp silently.

"I _own_ you now, Jill. Get used to it," he warned. Those vice-like hands that had her wrists trapped shoved them into the bed as he stood. The arms lay still above her head and she remained that way until Wesker retrieved the blood pressure machine and sat in the same spot on the bed. The routine check-up Wesker came here for started without a word spoken to one another. Jill's head lay away from him, staring at the pristine white curtains bunched up against the wall. Anything to take her mind off who was in the room with her.

**{1:08 P.M.}**  
Roger Grenik was sitting with the nurses while Jill spent time with her 'visitor'. There were shouts and exchanges of words, but he tried not to listen to them. No one ever filled him in on the history these two had together, but he could tell from the animosity either presented, it was terrible. Both of them hated each other to the core, to such extremes unimaginable. To kidnap an enemy to make their partner suffer was high on the scale of vengeful tactics. Grenik stared into the styrofoam cup of hot coffee, its steam wisping into the air. The nurses were quiet as they typed in various information. Once Grenik saw Wesker walk out of the room, he decided he should go and try to cheer his patient up. The nurses had been nice enough to bring various colored flowers in the facility, to brighten up the infirmary. Taking a pot of red, soft geraniums, he went to her room. A soft, muffling sound was heard on the inside and he knocked gently...a loud sniffle and sob were quickly subdued.

"Come in..." her voice called. Grenik came in with the plant and smiled at her. the bedsheets had some small, wet stains on them from her tears she was trying to hide. Those blue eyes were tinted with red from her crying, as she watched him. No tears showed now, as she gained control of her emotions. It was embarrassing to let others see you cry, and Jill believed this. She wanted no questions. this wish was sensed by Grenik as he approached her bed.

"I thought it was sort of bland here...so I brought you something pretty to look at," he said. The potted geranium was set on a table beside her bed. The light reflected off the velvet-like petals as Jill stared at it. A cautious hand reached out and petted the petals and slowly, it earned the doctor a smile. It was not the same as giving someone a puppy or kitten for company, but he felt this plant was enough of a living thing for Jill to have a kind of connection with.

"It is...pretty. Thank you," came her kind, soft answer. The woman seemed to relax more and calm down from her encounter with Wesker. Grenik sat with her and told her he would have to extend her therapy sessions, and make them seven days a week. dark features crossed her face as she nodded gravely, understanding. Determination then filled her eyes as she narrowed her brows and set her jaw. If this would help her to quicken her progress to where she could finally run and walk unassisted, she would bear it.

"I want you to have one more hour of rest. I will come back to retrieve you, and we'll start, ok?" he said with a bright smile. This positive energy Grenik seemed to always possess helped Jill to look away from the darker side of things, and instill some hope.

"Ok."

* * *

**{U.S. Atlantic Time. 2:00 P.M.}**

Chris was sitting at the desk filling out paperwork. It was the most boring job in the world, and he wished he could be in the fields again. That was where he worked best. Strapped with guns, knives and ready to take on any fool who thought they stood a chance against him. Working out with weights had become an obsession rather than a belief to stay fit. Wesker may have been powered by a super virus, but Chris felt if he worked out enough, he could be enough to protect those he held dear the next time. Better than the last time. He'd buffed up well before they encountered Wesker...but it hadn't been enough. Chris shook his thoughts as he went back to concentrating at the stack of papers in front of him. As he was about to sign his name to the line, the phone rang. Setting the pen down, he quickly picked the phone up.

"BSAA Headquarters. Incident Cataloging Department. Chris Redfield speaking," he answered dully while putting his feet up on the desk. A shaky voice on the other side of the phone caught his attention. There was muttering on the other line and he could not make out a word the person was saying.

"Speak up. Can't hear ya, buddy..." he said slowly. The voice grew stronger.

"I have...valuable news I want you to have. Be at Betty's restaurant at 7 O'clock tonight. Sharp...The answers you been seeking will be there," and the phone clicked. Chris stared at the receiver in confusion. The heart was racing a million miles per minute as he racked his brain. Did this timid caller...mean the answers about Jill? About Wesker? The nightmares he had of them surviving that fall always haunted him and not being able to find them himself...would it be relevant to it?

"Chris! We need those reports soon. You almost done finalizing them?" a stern, male voice called from the opening of his cubicle. Chris jumped and the phone dropped to the floor. The bulky man stared at the man with annoyance and the supervisor got the hint and left Chris alone. Chris helped make this organization to begin with...and everyone knew this. The only reason he was pushing papers still was due to his breakdown after they announce Jill missing in action. The phone was hung back up and he stared at the papers before him again and wondered...if the information was reliable, would they allow him to go back into the field to find her?


	16. The Procession of Plans and Hopes

Ugh sorry for the shortest chapter ever. But I wanted to finally update! It's a little idea of what everyone is thinking more or less. And I AM BACK ONLINE! Got my own wireless for the laptop and everything so I can be on anywhere I am. I will be working hard on stories now since I am back. Sorry for the long pause and making anyone fear I stopped the story. I didn't! I will update so be on watch. Thanks for reading! ALSO NOTE. I revised all the chapters. They are rewritten. Sorry . I couldn't help there were inconsistencies. And I detailed the only half way steamy scene even more.

* * *

Chapter 16  
Procession of Plans and Hopes

**{4:30 P.M.}  
**The sun was beginning to turn an orange color as it neared the horizon. It flooded the room with warm, positive light as a woman was humming and sorting through exprnsive clothes. Excella was standing and looking at different attire laid on the bed, stuck on what to wear. Her hair was down around her shoulders, framing her smooth face. Birds chirped on the small balcony as a small radio played regional music. For being stuck in the middle of nowhere, Excella had to admit it was rather a quaint area they chose to stay in for the time being. The facilities would not be acceptable for any inhabitance until they were properly rehabilitated. Tricell was doing well funding them for it and while the labs were operational, staying in the facility was not ideal. There was one area in the missile manufacturing warehouse that provided a small couch and some privacy but it was nothing compared to a bed.

"What to choose..." she muttered, staring at the outfits. She chose a nice light blue dress that came mid thigh and was generous on cleavage. It was a strapless and thought it would look quite well with silver pumps. As she chose the outfit and put the others away neatly, she heard the door open. It was no surprise who it would be. The black clad man walked in silently and closed the door, stripping from the long, black coat. She often fussed at him that wearing such heavy and dark clothing in Africa was not good and he could be prone to heat exhaustion. Of course...he never listened, yet at the same time, while she may look for signs of sweat, paled skin or hints he may be suffering from it, she could never find one.

"Good evening, Albert," she murmured with a sultry tone. She had gotten over Jill, Wesker making her realize how utterly childish it had been for her to waste time being jealous. Excella was worldly, classy, intelligent and exotic while Jill was simply plain. The compliments worked magic on her as she decided to treat Jill normally. After all, why waste such energy on someone nowhere near her caliber?

"Evening, Excella," he said briskly. Excella took his coat and hung it up in the small closet the room provided. " Did you meet with Ricardo today?" he asked suddenly. The woman turned with her eyes alight and began to explain everything.

"Ah yes. And we have nearly perfected the Las Plagas Type 2. The only problem is the persistent aggression it has against women and children. We have a new experimental batch ready to be tested...I am sure Tricell will be eager to know results as soon as possible. Did you find another place to carry out the experimentations?" she inquired. Excella had no shame as she turned so her back was towards Wesker and began to strip down to dress into blue number she picked out. He watched for a few moments before sitting down and losing interest when he found the file of the new batch she and Ricardo developed.

"In the marshlands, yes. I told them I was the foreman at the Tricell oil plant. I brought them liquor and other gifts to try and win their trust. I'll be going back soon to see how it went. I put them under the impression they needed to come to the oil plant to be inoculated against a new disease," he informed her. As the snug blue dress was zipped up in the back, she turned to face him. Green eyes stared at him inquisitively.

"These third world people seem so easy to fool...well then. What day did you tell them they ought to be there?"

"On the 8th...three days from now. Around noon," he stated simply. Excella gave a single nod and slipped into the silver pumps. Wesker stared at her as she grabbed her purse and extracted a compact mirror, checking her make-up. A blonde brow peeked over the top rim of his sunglasses. He was done for the day. Jill was checked on, the trip to the marshlands seemed to have had a moderate success...where was she going?

"What are you dressing up for?" he asked. A playful smile played on her glossed, pouted lips as her eyes glanced to him.

"I am meeting Ricardo. He is going to do some business with the B.O.W.s we have, and I want to meet the intended customers personally," she explained. If it involved the selling of B.O.W.s, that was purely a Tricell transaction and had nothing to do with him. It meant he could stay here and rest up for once. Between the test runs he had to take care of to cover their real research, the research itself and checking on Jill, he was wearing thin on patience and energy.

" Did you wish to come?" she offered, with a hopeful gaze. Wesker shook his head and waved her off, leaning back in the chair. All he really wanted to do was sleep and rest. Disappointment crossed her face as she adjusted the purse's strap on her shoulder. She flashed a half hearted smile at him and left him to be alone. Wesker stared after her until the door shut and he could hear her heels clicking away. A heavy sigh fell from his lips. Finally. No one to bug him, no one to talk to him. All there was, was the birds chirping and the stillness of the room. The boots were unzipped and kicked off as he made his way to the bed. He crawled in and relaxed on the old mattress, head buried in the pillow after setting the sunglasses on the table. It was in a few moments he was sound asleep.

{7:30 P.M.}  
Jill sat in her bed after another long, grueling day of rehabilitation. The nerves were hurting and Grenik told her this was a good sign. It meant her body was healing and becoming synced with the rest of her body. There was not much belief in that explanation, but Jill did feel stronger. Walking was hard still yet but she could manage it with a walker. It could not be for too long or she would collapse from the exhaustion. The geranium was a welcomed sense of life to her. The room was full of shiny, metallic objects, blinding white sheets and walls, with cheap line motifs for the lower half and pastel curtains she could use for privacy. It was utterly depressing. The vivid red of the geranium and the deep, lush, green color of the leaves gave her the impression that there was still life. A gentle hand petted the petite, scarlet petals as she lost herself in thought.

Since waking to find herself broken and in Wesker's care, there had been no good memories or instances except punching that snobby Italian in the face. Everything had been so bleak and hopeless. Day by day went having to endure his idea of what "care" meant. The presence of that blonde always brought out the worst in Jill. To make the matters worse, her dreams left her in a state of confusion.  
Why did she dream of him in such provocative ways? What explanation was there? Perhaps according to Freud, it was her Id making itself known...the vast depths of the unconsciousness that could not be controlled once someone was in that state.  
Still, the dreams had been getting increasingly detailed. The last dream of them at the bottom of that cliff still gave her shivers and awoken her fury...and to think of it, also made her remember Wesker's little interrogation. For him to read her body language so well, it made her believe he could read her mind. All this time she thought she was well aware of how she presented herself and what she said in movement and voice. Yet, Wesker read her like a book. Nothing got past him. If she could not fool Wesker, or escape soon, how long would it take for Chris to find her? According that what Wesker told her, it had been over a year since she gone missing. So why hadn't he found them yet?

"Chris...where are you?" she choked out, trying to hold back her sobs.

**{Atlantic Time. 7:00 P.M.}**

The restaurant was picking up. Dinner time was rolling around and various people and families were showing, sitting at booths and taking orders fromt he crisp looking waiters. Chris sat down and drank a glass of water as he waited for this informant. The guy sounded petrified over the phone. He told him he had information he would like to know...and it intrigued Chris. There is only one kind of information he wanted to know, and he wondered if it was exactly what he was looking for. Anticipation plagued him as he drummed his fingers on the table and constantly glanced to his watch. Two minutes had passed and he was hoping this was no bluff or joke. All the searching he tried to do and there were no results. He read over the files again and again about his and Jill's bout with Wesker. How could they just treat Jill's disappearance like a death so easily? No bodies were found...and no evidence was presented to suggest any animals carried them off. Wesker was alive...something told him that, and something also told him or maybe foolishly hoped, he had Jill. That in some shape or form, she was still alive.

"H-hello..."

Chris jerked his head up to see a skinny looking man. He wore baggy, black jogging pants and a grey hoodie with its hood pulled over his face. The person's hands were in the pockets of the hoodie. The head of the figure glanced around quickly then sat down across from Chris. With the dimmed lighting the restaurant set for dinner time, it was hard to make out the man's face.

"Hey there...you said you had something for me? Some information?" Chris asked, getting right to the point. The man nodded and glanced to the window, making sure no one was watching him. He leaned in and whispered so no one sitting around them could hear them.

"I work...I work for a big company. Don't make me say the name, please...but...look. I know about the BSAA. Don't ask how I know about the BSAA either. I do know you work for them...and your former partner, Jill Valentine. Mr. Redfield...she is alive. She's alive and being looked after. I...I can't say where they are now...but-"

The man cut himself off as he stiffened and got up.

"I got to go. Just trust me, ok?" and he bolted out of the restaurant. Chris jumped to run after him, cutting a corner and keeping him in sight. Just as he ran out the door, a waiter with a large tray of food came around and collided into Chris. Food went flying all over the two and a family sitting at a table. The dishes clattered to the ground and broke with a loud sound that hushed the entire building. Chris slung sauce off himself as he glared at the glass doors that swung gently, and allowed the informant to escape. His heart was beating quickly as he was listening to the man, and he wanted to ask him a slew of questions. Something spooked him into running away. Was he being followed? If so...by whom?


	17. Sins Committed Against One's Will

Finally another chapter! This one is longer. A good 2,500 something words. It's got a damn good ending twist too. I hope you all enjoy! And thanks for reading! I know everyone is waiting for smuttiness. Be patient, and it will come. Trust me. and I won't hold back details, ok? XD Review please, and thank you!

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Chapter 17  
Sin Committed Against One's Will

**{July 5th, 2008. 1:00 P.M.}**

Two months went by quickly. Jill was walking again without much difficulty. Running seemed to present a problem with her joints, but a light jog didn't compromise her. Grenik prescribed her with medication to help her joints. Despite the fact that she could now walk again, Wesker still ordered her to be confined to the infirmary unit. Over the months, the room she was staying in took on more personal attributes. With Grenik's help, he gotten her some different books to read, magazines, a small CD player and a few clothing items. The red geranium sprouted vivid crimson petals, just as healthy as it was the day she received it. It was a small comfort for the hell she was trapped in.

Jill done all she could to not remember that day when Wesker caught her red handed, and accurately read into her thoughts. Since then, she been trying to keep an unwavering mask around him. It was hard to control such small impulses, like the twitch of her eye, or the clenching of her jaw. The tiniest movements seemed to give him substantial hints into her thoughts and she did not want to face the mockery or humility once again. When Grenik had demonstrated how Jill was capable of her own again, the routine checks Wesker made stopped.  
The routine checks Jill had grown so accustomed to the past months that when they did stop, there was a sense of loss. It was a crazy thought to have, but it disrupted the order of how her daily life went in that small infirmary. Around the hour he would normally come in, her mood would change, expecting to see him and face him with her emotionless facade. Yet, he never came. Grenik would probably give her a cock-eyed look if she dared to ask where he was, and decided against it.  
It was afternoon when she was given a lunch. She was laying in the hospital bed reading one of the many dime novel crime books Grenik gave her when he walked in. The tray was laden with much better food than she used to get during the first stages of her therapy. A bookmark was slid into the book as she set it aside and sat up. The doctor greeted her warmly and set the meal on a rolling table for her.

"Here you go. How's that book?" he asked kindly. Jill smiled back and gave a nod of satisfaction.

"It's great really. There's so many plot twists, it had me gasping every chapter," she responded. A heavy, metal spoon dipped into the thick beef stew. She took a bite and hummed gently at the wondrous taste. It didn't taste too salty like the canned soup she normally ate.

"Is this homemade?" she asked.

"Yeah. The wife made a huge batch. It's good though," he admitted. Jill smiled back in agreement and began to eat more vigorously. It wasn't like the canned stuff in many ways. There was not a whole lot of salt. The natural tastes of the potatoes, beef, carrots, celery, onion and peas was still preserved. It would seem some flour was used to thicken the gravy sauce and give it a more heavier and filling property. Grenik sat at the edge of her bed quietly as she ate. This should have been a sign that something was wrong...yet she had trusted Grenik for so long it didn't seem out of the ordinary for him to remain with her and chat. Nearly the whole bowl was gone when Jill felt odd. One could often feel the effect of sleepiness after eating a good serving of food, but not this profound. Everything in the room seemed to blur and when Grenik addressed her, the voice was an echo in her head. Numbed lips moved to say something but her body decided already for her. That she was too tired to care. She fell back against the bed and passed out. It didn't dawn on her in the last moments of her consciousness that Grenik would ever drug her.  
Grenik wore a grim expression as he watched Jill faint. It went against his morals and he still tried to argue with Wesker that she was not yet ready. The man had revealed the plans to experiment with a serum on the woman. Grenik profusely refused that he do this to her, when she was still in her final stages of therapy. While Jill could walk, jog and had regained her ability to change direction quickly on her feet, running long distances still posed a problem. A woman of her shape and muscle structure should not have a problem running a mile, but after half, she was too tired and her body's heartrate was too high for her to continue pushing. Still...Wesker insisted he continue with his plans. Or...Grenik's family would pay the price for his insubordination. The threat against his family made him change his mind. It would be the first time either Jill had encountered a man bound strongly by their family and turn on her for it...and Wesker knew this.

**{7:00 PM}**

It was cold. The bed she was lying on felt hard, and stiff. The lights of the room were blinding. As Jill sat up, she realized she was in a normal hospital gown, and she had been lying on a metal table in an examination room... but this examination room was not like a regular clinic's. Everything was white tile. The lights above her burnt so brightly she had to shield her eyes to see. Large, metal cabinets rested against the walls on the far side, housing various beakers, vials and medical supplies. The table she was lying on was in the middle of the room, far out of reach from these sources. Blue eyes scanned around for any hint of another person being in here. As far as she could tell, no one was there.

"Good evening," came that chilling, unmistakable voice. Blue eyes narrowed at the door opening and stepping in, the devil himself. Rage shook her body as she stood, preparing to attack the man...then something stopped her. A voice in her head that was hers..._don't attack. Stay put._ After everything this man had done, why was she refusing herself the pleasure of inflicting any pain or damage on him? Every part of her body wanted to fling herself at him and pound him into the hard, tiled floor but she remained perfectly still. Why was her conscience refusing this impulse?

"Good girl," Wesker said to her. _Good girl? Did he realize I...wanted to attack him and stopped myself?_ The bootsteps echoed as he approached her, and her heartrate escalated...yet on the outside, she was remarkably calm looking. There was no flinch, no movement to indicate she wanted to ran as quickly as she could away from him. _That's it, then. Get closer, get closer. I will break your nose like I did that bitch of yours. Come on..._Jill thought as he came closer. He was within arm's length now, close enough to punch. When her brain sent the impulses through the nerves' system, her body again refuted to follow directions. A more calmer voice of hers spoke against her sincerest wishes. _He won't harm you. Let him close. _Jill was finding it hard to believe that she was telling herself this.

"Hm...it seems it is working well," he commented. He looked her over and then took a step back. Jill didn't know what was going on. Where was Grenik? Her makeshift bedroom in that small infirmary?

"Now, Jill. I want you to put your right arm out. Lift it straight up, then point at the ceiling with your index finger," he instructed. The order seemed so out of the ordinary. Why did he want her doing such silly things, that normally a doctor asks of you when doing a physical? _Guess it would not hurt_, she told herself. Her arm made the movement he told her to make. Wesker took a small notepad and pen from his pocket as she did this, and began to take notes.

"Lower your arm," he said casually. Jill did. As he moved around her, she stepped around, keeping him in her sight. She didn't feel safe having him behind her without being able to see what he was doing. _I don't know what you're doing to me, but I so wish I could hurt you. What is this?_ she screamed mentally. The man was mere inches away from her but she could not command her body to attack him. Innocent moving, such as turning around, seemed to be in her control...but if she wanted to turn on him, something stopped her. A few scribbles were put into that small notepad of his before he looked back up.

" Ok then. Let's try something more complicated, shall we?" he questioned. If Jill was confused, her face did not show it. " Now. Two cartwheels, two back flips and assume a defense stance," he commanded. _The hell does he think I am? An acrobat? I can't do that! _ Jill protested silently. A more calmer version of her voice talked to her again. It was like having another self..._You can do it. It's simple. Just do it. _Jill walked across the room to one end and stood about, facing the emptiness. With a held breath, she stepped forward. Her body naturally fell into the sleek movement as she rolled on her hands and feet in two cartwheels. On the second, she jumped high and bent herself backwards. The body tucked in as she flipped backwards and landed smoothly, before completing another backflip. After the second, she landed in a crouched position, in a defensive stance as told. Wesker approached her slowly and was writing again in that notepad. He was also glancing to his wristwatch ever so often.

"Superb, Jill. Now...another test. Bring him in," Wesker ordered. Jill's attention snapped to the door as two uniformed figures walked in. A struggling, shouting man was being dragged in by his arms. It took her seconds to realize it was Grenik. The pair had roughed him up, according to the bruises and blood on his face. She stood idly as she watched the man forced against the very metal table she had just been lying on. Wesker approached, reaching into his long, black coat. Jill watched as he pulled out his very own gun, and checked the clip. Making sure it was operable, he took her hand and turned it over, putting the gun her hand. _What an idiot! Does he realize I could point this gun at him...? And turn on him? _As Jill thought this and tried to force her body to obey and aim the gun at his head, her arm stayed still, holding the gun. Why could she not control herself?

"It's in working order. Now. I want you to shoot Mr. Grenik, Jill," he said. Hearing that made the two look at one another in utter fear. Grenik was realizing he was facing death, while Jill was comprehending that if she did this, she was murdering a friend. To her dismay, she felt herself approaching Grenik with the gun aimed at his forehead. _No, no, NO!_ She screamed at herself. This was her friend, a man who had helped her recover and learn to walk again. Who given her that flower pot with a beautiful geranium. Had made her meals and given her books, and done so much. Someone so unlike who would normally work for Wesker or Umbrella. Tears spilled down her cheeks as her arm began to shake, the gun rattling. Gasping breaths ripped from her chest as she spun on heel and aimed the gun at Wesker. Two shots were sounded off but it was no use. Wesker noticed and dodged easily. Upon reaching her he ripped the gun from her hand. It was holstered within a blink of an eye, and before she could react, he had her back pressed to his chest and her arms pinned to her side.

"Now, Jill. That was not very nice," said his voice on her ear. It made her shiver and squeeze her eyes tightly together. Feeling his body pressed so close to her made her relive bad memories of dreams and instances she couldn't forget. Before she could attempt to struggle out of his hold, she felt the cold, intense bite of a needle in her neck. Her mouth widened in a silent gasp as her body became rigid. Slowly, her body loosened in his hold and she hung her head. Energy pulsed through her and she felt so much stronger. Wesker gently let her go, as she stood on her own two feet. Wesker again placed the gun in her hand and leaned in behind her. His lips touched her earlobe as he whispered to her.

"Kill him, Jill. I order you to," he breathed. A stony visage was plastered on her face now as she stared at Grenik. The man was white with fear and his eyes widened in shock.

"J-Jill...it's me, Roger! Come on, Jill...don't do this! DON'T LISTEN TO HIM!"he begged her. Tears streamed down the sides of his face as he looked up at her. Sobs echoed through the room as he stared at his impending doom. Jill had no emotion in her blue eyes as she stared down at him. "Please, Jill...God, please...don't do this..." he cried.

"Do it, Jill," Wesker said_. Don't do it. He is your friend. He has a family. Don't, Jill! _ The trigger finger did not listen. Three, loud, distinct shots rang through the room and put an end to Grenik's screams and pleas. Blood was splattered across the prestine white tiles, and the clean sheen of the metal table. The two guards dropped the dead body carelessly to the floor, as blood poured from the back of his head with the brain matter. Jill showed no emotion as she turned about and faced Wesker. Wesker smirked as he watched, writing down notes in his small notepad.

**P30 test subject Jill Valentine**  
Subject can be controlled for approximately 20 minutes with one dose.  
Movement is not inhibited.  
Enhanced use of the body in three areas:  
-Strength  
-Agility  
-Speed

Note:  
As the effects of this drug is short lived, regular dosages must be applied. Either manually, or by a device.

The notepad was flipped closed and pocketed. The blonde took the gun from her and checked it before holstering it. A gloved hand rested on her cheek as he stared into her soulless eyes, smirking all the while. The test run for the P30 had been a success. The only issue now was to figure out a way to have the drug injected into her remotely. Having to administer it manually all the time would be time consuming, and if he planned to use her against Chris some day...well, that manner of using it on her would not do.


	18. Correcting Resistance

I know I know! A long time to update. However, I am beginning to get into the stages Wesker may have taken to get Jill ready for the P30 and the device. I know a lot are hanging, waiting for this romance...however, I again, cannot stress enough how I like things taken at a deliberate, methodical pace that makes sense. I believe Wesker has carnal urges just like ANY man or MALE in any species has, but he isn't the kind to just act on those urges at a whim. But I am coming close to those conclusions! Wait until she gets her battlesuit. (grin) And when the thought crosses his mind of how Chris would react if he knew the things he may have done to Jill...but yes that will come soon. Maybe next chapter, Wesker mulling these rather indecent thoughts over and grinning at what he thinks will be Chris' reaction to such a fact. XD But alas, here is the new chapter! I may skip my other two stories, just to write another chapter for this to give you all more...cause I know you all been patiently waiting...so without further ado, here is Chapter 18! Please review and let me know your thoughts!

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Chapter 18  
Correcting Resistance

**[July 6th, 2008. 9:00 A.M. ]**

The images were still imprinted in her head. The frightened and begging image of Grenik as he pleaded with Jill to spare him haunted her through the night. The tears that spilled down his face as he cried, showing how human he was. The stories of his wife surfaced and only drove the stake deeper into her heart. Pain ripped through her chest as she kept reliving the situation and her cheeks became stained with tears. That man was such a good person to her, a kind and gentle soul that should have never met such a cruel fate. Jill would have given anything to not have taken an innocent life such as Roger Grenik's. The drug Wesker had injected her with had the effect of numbing the conscience from her body. While she was perfectly conscious of her actions, if Wesker ordered her to do something, her body obeyed. It was dreadful to be imprisoned in her own body with no control.

"Fuck...ing...bastard!" she sobbed, shaking and covering her wet face with her hands. She had been put into the same room in the infirmary. The door had been locked from the outside and there were no windows or accessible vents for her to try and escape. Books, pans, chairs and other various items lay strewn across the room from her rampage. The only thing intact was sitting on the nightstand, in its rich, dark soil. The geranium was bright and healthy, and the only thing she had left of the kind doctor who tried to resist Wesker's orders in order to keep her comfortable. _Look how that ended up...Wesker knew. He fucking knew the doctor was being nice and befriending me. And he made me kill him to add insult! The bastard! The heartless fucking bastard! _She continued to use a variety of swear words, calling him every name known in the English language.

Wesker was rounding the corner and past the nurse's station. The women looked down immediately, already aware of Grenik's fate. None of them wished to cross paths with the man in black, fearing they may end up the same way. The overnight nurses were nice enough to give Jill food and drinks and hoped they would not be discovered. It was just hard for them to hear her continuous sobbing all through the night, with no wink of sleep. They all felt sorry for her. Once the plague had passed them, one noticed him stop in front of the girl's room. Why did he have to torment that girl so?

The emotionally torn woman was sitting on the bed with her face in her hands, moisture collecting in their palms. The painful tides of sorrow had numbed her senses to the man entering the room. The man in black stood at the door as it shut quietly, the lock clicking in place. He only stood there like a shadow in the corner of the room where light cannot reach, watching her vulnerability. Every muscle quivered as she sobbed, lamenting the situation he put her in. Seeing this only served to give Wesker satisfaction that he was making her suffer for interfering.

"Jill. I have plans for you today, so I need you to stop that incessant sobbing and clean yourself up. Are we clear?" he ordered. The coldness of his voice replaced the sharp pain of sorrow with something else. It was a warmth that spread through her whole body. Energy so intense and raw, surged through every nerve and caused her body to convulse. This was a level of rage that Jill never thought she would come to realize; bloodlust. She wanted Wesker to suffer pain unimaginable and lowered back to the human level of begging for mercy. Not even one thought towards consequence occurred to her as she flung herself off the bed at him. A hard fist came flying at the man who easily dodged to the side to avoid the blow. The fisted hand slammed into the door behind him. While the pain shot up Jill's forearm, the fury she felt numbed her to the experience. Ferocious blue eyes turned on him, and he was momentarily distracted by the animalistic nature of them. A heavy foot sunk into his stomach as he flew into the wall behind him, hard enough to crumple the drywall.

"Jill!" Wesker yelled angrily, slamming his fist into the wall behind him before charging her. Cattish eyes glowed red as he grabbed her by her throat and ran her into the wall, her back colliding with it loudly and painfully. Spider web cracks appeared as he forced her against the wall, fingers clutching tightly and making her gag. The woman had so much rage however, that Wesker was not able to predict her ability to withstand his abuse. Hands tightly grabbed his wrist to try and free herself, while at the same time, lifting her body by the hold and thrusting her leg out. Her foot connected with his sternum bone forcefully and made him stumble back and release her. Jill fell to the floor coughing, spittle stuck on her lower lip before baring her teeth and charging the temporarily stunned Wesker.  
Wesker looked up in time to see Jill's fist flying at his face. A quick dodge of his head to the left and her dangerous fist was planted in the wall behind him. Grabbing the inside of her forearm, he twisted it until she cried in pain. A heavy boot sunk into her abdomen and forced her to the floor with force enough to crack the tiles. Jill lay there there stunned before Wesker straddled her stomach to prevent her from kicking out at him and grasped her wrists and forced them to the floor. Furious eyes glared up at him as she realized she been defeated. It was a quick fight that ended with hardly a scratch on either of them.

"If you do not behave yourself, I will be forced to reprimand you for your actions. Are we clear? Do not forget my threats are not to be taken lightly...as you well know!" he barked at her. The memory of her beat down in the elevator did float to the top. The pain he given her that day had been brutal and impressionable. Eyes widened and the fury flickered out slowly as she realized how badly he could hurt her. All the months of recovery would be for nothing if he ended up breaking her all over again. Those memories made her nerves calm, and her body to become mellow under him.

"That's better, Jill. You will fare better if you behave. It's common sense," he informed her. Jill turned her head to the side, directing her anger towards the baseboards. After all the therapy and learning to take back control of her body after over a year in cryostasis, and again, she had it taken from her. Wesker found a way to control her body in such a way as to make her murder the only person who had been kind towards her. A silent tear crept down her cheek as she relived those memories, and choked back the sobs.

"Clean yourself up and I will come back for you in an hour. understood?"

All Jill could do was nod her head slowly and agree to everything he told her. Defiance would not be tolerated which he made clear. The only thing she feared was what he had in store for her. What guarantee was there she would live if she listened and obeyed?

"Good," he remarked and got off her. Jill stayed there on the cold, broken tile. Wesker stared down at her for a while and grimaced. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to have her kill the only person she had grown attached to. It didn't matter. The plan Wesker had would continue as scheduled. He turned on his heel and walked from the room, shooting a glare at the curious nurses who all ducked behind the counter quickly.

Jill remained on the floor, staring at the baseboards for a long time. So many thoughts circulated through her head, and many fears. There was no guarantee Wesker would treat her any better than now if she listened. The man had betrayed countless people, and spun more lies than probably the Devil himself. As she thought about the fight, she came to a shocking realization. While he had slammed her around a bit, enough to crack the wall and floor, he never went for any vitals. The harm he caused her was minuscule compared to the beat down in the elevator when she tried escaping. All his attacks were meant to contain her, rather than harm. Why would he restrain himself from inflicting damage? Jill slowly sat up and pondered this. wondering if it had anything to do with what Roger Grenik said. That she had something "special" about her. What was so special, that even Wesker refrained from harming her?

**[9:30 A.M.]**

Wesker met with Excella in the laboratory area. The Uroboros Project was being researched in this area, and even with the antibodies they took from Jill, the virus still seemed to turn on its host and devour them. Their only hope was that it was more promising than before; before there was no hesitance before the virus reacted violently with the body and turned them into a black, tarred stain on the floor. The modelesque woman was sitting in the observation deck with xrays on wall lights beside her, and a stack of papers under her nose.

"Excella. We must talk about Jill. and the test run of the P30," he announced. The door slammed shut and Excella jumped from the harsh sound on her ears. She swiveled around in her seat, gracing Wesker with a lavish smile. The prestine, white lab coat was smoothed out over her body as she sat back.

"How'd it go?"

"She will require a device to regularly inject her with it. The P30 we derived from the virus works...however, the time table for its effects is far too short. She begins to successfully resist after an average of fifteen to twenty minutes after injection," Wesker explained monotonously. A frown crossed Excella's features as she crossed her slender arms, steeping herself in thought.

"We could devise something similar to an insulin pump. Does it need to be intravenous?" She asked, trying to get a grasp of how to accomplish what Wesker wanted. The man leaned against the counter behind him and folded his own arms, mulling over his thoughts. It didn't appear he needed to have the drug pumped directly into her veins, though he supposed it might be better. The speed which it took effect now might change as her body grew used to the drug, and they would end up needing it injected directly into her system.

"Yes...but the design cannot be on her hip or protruding from her body where it can easily tear off. I also want it to be easily concealed under clothing...perhaps somewhere near her heart. On the chest," he decided as he thought about it. "Yes...if it is pumped directly into her heart's arteries, the speed which the drug is circulated through her system would definitely be quicker. Also, work on the P30 itself. Make a concentrated solution of it for use. Make it to where only three or four CC's will be enough for fifteen minutes...this device cannot be too bulky, but it had to hold enough of the drug that it only needs refilled once every day."

"I will speak with some developers today," she said with confidence.

"I need to go...I expect an answer and design concept in one week," he remarked before leaving the woman to her paperwork. He closed the door and walked away, heading back to the infirmary to see if Jill was ready. Today he was going to test the limitations of her body while on the drug. It was like her having a generic, drug form of the T-virus that flowed through his body and gave him the power and strength he possessed. Wesker knew everything there was to know about his own abilities, and with that knowledge, he wondered if he could apply it to Jill. The girl really had no idea what she was in for.


	19. No Control

I am going to try and get some other stories done too. I did a new chapter for this quickly because I didn't do my rotation of stories! XD! I know you all have love for the story...and again, I know you all are looking for the smut...just wait. I promise it will come. I have to set it up accordingly. This seems to be my most popular story too. o.o I thank you all for the excellent reviews! I wish capcom would have explained it better what happened with the two...however. If they did, I wouldn't be able to write this fic, would I? Well enjoy the newest chapter! And please review! Thank you!

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Chapter 19:  
No Control

**[10:45 A.M.]**

Never in her life had she imagined her body could move like this. There was no control over any action she took, only the immediate obedience to any order he gave. It seemed while her mind could not comprehend how to execute such a move, her body knew exactly how much strength should be utilized and the trajectory of her path. There was power coursing through her body she never knew about. Was it an effect of the drug? What was he trying to achieve by enhancing her in this way?

" Try harder, Jill. Come!" he ordered loudly. Without a second thought she raced off after Wesker. Teeth bared as she aimed concrete breaking punches and kicks at his body only to have him effectively dodge them. While he may not have received many of her attacks, it didn't mean she was being pummeled. Most of Wesker's attacks had been avoided by within a hair's width. While her speed was nowhere near his, it was certainly more than she normally had and it aided in her avoiding attacks that could have very possibly shattered her bones. As Wesker punched and she ducked her head to the side, her hand grabbed the inside of his wrist. Caught by her, she wasted no time as she delivered a straight, upward kick that upper cutted him in his jaw. Wesker's feet came off the floor as he fell back from the blow. Jill didn't wait for his body to hit the floor as she rushed forward. She jumped up and with her arm across her chest, swung it downward in a backhanded, fisted blow to his sternum. Wesker's body plummeted to the ground at such a high velocity, he cracked the floor beneath him on impact.

"ARGH!" he grunted loudly. Seeing her heel about to come down onto his body, he rolled to the side and sprung back up. The P30 definitely did have an effect in her fighting style, and strength. Before encounters could not be compared to the sheer power she exhibited now, under the influence of P30. The training session was to measure how close her strength and speed came to his own. It was nowhere near as equal as he may have thought, but it had been definitely enough to have Jill keep up with him. It put a grin on his face to face her like this.

"Is that the best you got, Jill?" he taunted. The woman's eyes darkened with malice as she rushed after him. Wesker sidestepped quickly, nothing but a blur to Jill's eyes. He quickly thrust his boot at her back and sent her flying to the ground. She hit it with a sickening thud and as she pushed herself back up, Wesker's foot slammed down on her upper back, forcing her down.

" Seems the P30 is wearing off again..." he mused softly.

"Argh-geh..y-you...b..bastard!" she cried out, trying to force herself up. All the struggling was in vain for her. Indeed the drug had began to lose its effect. There had been a sharp decline in her speed and strength. Under the P30, she would have been able to escape from under his foot by now. a hand reached into a small case on his hip and produced a small needle. Wesker quickly sat on her back to subdue her and stabbed the needle into her neck. Her lithe body went rigid under his as she gasped silently for air. Fingers clawed helplessly at the hard, concrete floor as the drug raced through her body. Jill fell limp under him after only a few moments. Wesker stood and stepped over her, looking down at her.

"Stand up, Jill," he commanded. Her body seemed possessed by another. Jerkily, she got up and stood before him. Throwing the needle to the far side of the room, he gazed at her. A hand was held out and curled, indicating her to come at him.

"Come," he ordered. There was no hesitance as she rushed after him. Furious punches were aimed at him and had him backing up with each step. A kick would fly at him ever so often and be blocked by a swat of his hands. She certainly was a force to reckon with under P30. This was exactly what he wanted when he decided to test the drug on her.

"Desist," he commanded. Jill stopped her kick. She was balancing on one leg with her foot inches from the side of his face. The control was remarkable and he smirked at her as she stopped. Her eyes told him she wanted to plant that foot upside his head...yet as they both knew, he had total control of her body while she was injected with that horrible drug. Slowly she lowered her foot and stood normally before him, waiting for him to give anymore orders.

"Remarkable, Jill. You can keep up with me. Now...I have to see the brutality you can exhibit when in battle," he informed her. With a snap of his fingers, two doors slid open and out of each, came a crowd of zombies. Though...these zombies didn't seem like the ones Jill encountered. Their faces, their flesh, looked leathery. Parts of the flesh was split, like someone took those pieces of leather and sewn then haphazardly together. Their eyes were whited out, and blood oozed from their mouths. What alarmed Jill the most was the fact they walked normally. They had the posture and gait of a normal man. Eyes flickered to Wesker, wondering what he was going to command. The man in black had walked to a metal case near the wall that was locked. A key unlocked the cabinet and when it opened, Jill looked upon a small arsenal of guns and ammunition. Wesker gazed over the various guns before picking up two. They were twin machine guns, VZ61 series. They had extended magazines already loaded and ready for use.

"These will be your weapons. You will attack all the majini and leave none alive. Understood?" he informed. Jill gave a nod and took both guns into her arms. She looked at the polished metal, the intimidation they seemed to hold. Looking back to Wesker, he stood there with a faint smile.

"Now...go," he ordered. The moment the word 'go' left his lips, she turned and went after the armed majini. They held guns, stun rods and other weaponry. Despite their charge at her with their guns aimed, and their stun rods cackling, she evaded them so easily. Bullets riddled the first ones coming at her and left them in a rotting heap on the ground. Some well delivered kicks had stunned most, and a few bullets to the head finished them off. It took only minutes before the forty or so majini were on the ground, motionless, in pools of their own rotting, viscous liquids. Smoke wisped from the guns' barrels, as she stood among the sea of lifeless zombies, the poor souls who were unfortunate enough to have Wesker ruin their lives...and turn them into mindless monsters.

"Very impressive!" he complimented, strolling towards her while his gloved hands clapped together. Jill urged her arm to turn the guns on him but again, she found she could not command her body_. Fuck! Move! How hard is it to lift your arms and aim the guns at him! Come on, body! COME ON! _No matter what she did to try and will herself to turn from this path Wesker was forcing her down, she found herself following it anyway. This was the most humiliating situation she'd ever been in...

"Are you in there, Jill? Can you hear me?" he asked suddenly, standing before her. Blue eyes stared up at those smokey sunglasses, and behind them those cattish, red eyes. The proximity of their bodies silenced Jill as she bit back her words she been thinking. The black clad hand reached up and took her jaw, forcing Jill to look higher at him. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he gazed down into her eyes. There was an unsettling feeling welling inside Jill, a warning that she needed to step away from him. Something about the situation screamed danger.

" You can, can't you? I wonder. How does it feel to know I, someone who you have despised your whole life, is able to control your body?" he taunted her. A flicker of fury flared up at his mocking words. " To know I can do absolutely _anything_ to you...and you can do nothing about it?"

Jill stood there, teeth clenched but did nothing. The only visible sign of distraught was her jaw muscles flexing ever so often. While she screamed profanities in his direction consciously, her body did nothing to reflect the same sentiments.

"I made you kill Roger Grenik. And with incredible ease from help of the P30 drug I injected you with. If you cannot stop yourself from killing a man who helped you and developed a bond with you, I wonder...what could you possibly think of that would prevent me from sending you after Chris? And killing him?"

A chill went down her spine. Eyes widened at the revelation he given her. Was there anything? Trying to resist the drug was futile. She continued to, but the moment she was beginning to break free from its bonds, Wesker would give her another injection. Common sense also told her it was only a matter of time before they would develop a way to keep her under the influence permanently. _Chris, no. I won't kill him! I can't! You cannot make me, Wesker! You fucking sadist! I won't have you command me to kill him! _While she was protesting the very idea of her ever harming Chris, her body again made no movement, not even batted an eyelash in disagreement with the proposed idea.

" I can control you to do anything I want, Jill...kill anything I want. Your every movement can be determined by my own wishes. You realize that now, don't you? And I am sure you realized how the drug has enhanced your abilities...like I told you before, Jill," he trailed off. Wesker had been circling her and now he stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders. His touch sickened her stomach but there was nothing she could do about it. "I _own_ you now..."

The stranglehold the drug had on her was loosening. Jill was fighting it every step of the way, her arms beginning to shake, the VZ61s rattling. Teeth clenched tightly, threatening to put cracks in the hard enamel as with each passing second, she found herself regaining control. The glimmer of hope was quickly squashed as she felt his hand tighten on her shoulder and the familiar prick of the needle into her neck.

"Ah!" she cried out and stumbled forward. Again she felt her body numbed to her control and absolved by the drug. As much as Jill wanted to cry and protest, her body remained stoic and emotionless. A few deep, haggard breaths steadied as she righted herself.

"...On your knees, Jill," he barked. Quickly Jill fell to her knees, awaiting more orders. Wesker walked around and stood before her. Staring down at her, he barked at her once more.

"Bow down!"

Jill's arms went out and hands were placed on the cold ground as she laid in a deep bow.

"Good girl...I hope you begin to see any resistance is futile. It always had been. The more you fight, the more I restrain you."

It was beyond humiliating, being controlled to bow down to him. There was no protesting and she was lamenting what she was doing and the fact she couldn't stop. Jill had been a resilient, stubborn and strong willed woman...to have every shred of that taken away and left vulnerable, was worse than any beating or cruel words. In essence, Wesker had taken everything Jill was.

**[12:03 P.M.]**

Jill had thought they were heading back to the temporary room she had in the infirmary. Instead, they got off the rickety elevator and walked down a dark, damp hall. The P30 was still effecting her and she followed Wesker dutifully, but internally fearful where they were going. Everything that had happened in the past two days had been far from her comfort zone. Another metal caged elevator slid open with a rather unsavory sound. Both stepped in and a large, red button was pushed. The elevator lift shuddered and began to descend. Blue eyes cast furtive glances about her, trying to take in the surroundings. It was an open wall lift and it appeared the walls were of rock and stone. How far below the surface were they? The elevator lift squealed to a halt on its ropes and let them off at a more refined hallway. Bright, fluorescent lights buzzed and lit the rehabbed hallway. Ahead was a normal elevator. Both crossed the small distance and ended up in the elevator and descended once again.

_Where are we going? Why am I not going back to the infirmary? I bet it's because of the nurses. Someone who may enable me to escape, or take too much pity on me. God knows he doesn't want any kindness shown to me. The prick. _The elevator slowed to a full stop and the heavy doors rolled open. This hallway was blinding. The floors were a light gray and the walls pristine, snowy white. Bright lights once again buzzed above them as they walked.  
They stopped in front of a door. Wesker was digging inside his pockets and produced a small, clear card. Circuitry was visible and the label Tricell was written across the top. Tricell...she was angry about that. A company that funded the BSAA, was doing business with this terrorist. This monster. It was a perfect way to disguise their dealings with one of the worst threats to this world, by paying off the BSAA.

"Inside," he informed. Jill stepped into the room and gazed about. It was a room. All the personal belongings she accumulated over the time spent in the infirmary had not been moved here. It was barren. A twin sized bed rested against the far wall with white sheets and white pillows. A metal table rested against the left wall with a single metal chair, and metal drawers were to her right wall. Just beside that was a door to what she could guess was a bathroom.

"This is your new room. You're being moved from the infirmary to prevent...liabilities," he put it. Jill knew what he meant. It was what she had theorized earlier.

" I have the only card to this room. It locks from the outside, so you won't be able to escape. I suggest you get rest," he said blandly and turned. The door slid open and he left. Jill was willing herself with every bit of mental strength she had to run out, but she only stood there obediently and watched as the door slid closed, beeped, and ultimately locked. Rest, she thought. What else did he have in store for her?


	20. At His Mercy

Sorry...It is a little short, but it is an update! I may fast forward now to when they actually have the final design of the device. To speed things up. And get to some good parts I have in store. Review and let me know how you like the story so far! I like to know what readers think so I know people are satisfied. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews so far too! They really keep me going on this story!

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Chapter 20: At His Mercy

**[5:40 P.M]**

Starvation was getting the best of her. The food she'd been given earlier in the morning by the nurses hadn't filled her stomach. The sorrow she felt had also prevented anything from staying in her stomach that long. The tongue was dry from lack of hydration and there was an awful stickiness to her whole mouth. Once in a while she would hear footsteps outside the door. It would make her involuntarily tense every time. The P30 had long since worn off and she checked the room for any signs of weakness or hidden passages to escape. It was an hour before she'd given up and then berated herself for being so stupid. Wesker wouldn't have put her in here if he thought she had a slim chance of being able to escape. Time was passed by lying on the padded cot and staring at the ceiling, no comforting thoughts came to her as she laid there. The only things she could think of was her dismal situation...and the cruel fact she -  
Having to bow to that man was the most humiliating thing Jill could think of. Such embarrassments like being caught farting, or having a clumsy day paled in comparison now. Jill screamed at herself the loudest she could but in a swift movement, her body had obeyed and lowered itself to the ground. It was bad enough to know she was trapped with this man and would have to wait for outside help...to now learn that Wesker could control every aspect of her...would there be any part of her own identity she'd be allowed to keep?

Wesker was walking alongside a man carrying a tray laden with a heavy dinner. The two walked in silence down the long, bright hallway and stopped right before Jill's room. The card key was swiped and the lock beeped, and flashed green. The door slid open and Wesker stepped in. The woman was lying on the bed, facing away from the door. It was hard to tell if she was asleep or lying awake, hoping he would believe she was sleeping and would not want to disturb her. As Wesker walked in, the door slid closed. Muted footsteps crossed the room's distance and came right to her bed. Jill laid there, her eyes closed. Sleep had started to put a spell on her and she was about to fall under its full effects until he walked in. Now adrenaline flooded her as she was tensed for the next nightmare he would provide.

"Jill. You're awake...stop trying to use that trick on me. Didn't work before, won't work now," he said, calling her bluff. Why couldn't she control herself? Why couldn't she think rationally when he taunted her? Jill had tried rolling and kicking out at him only to have his hand catch her ankle. As she tried to pull her leg free from his grasp, she found she couldn't.

"Let me go!" she shouted at him. A dark chuckle only fell from his lips as he turned to the paled man who had set the food tray down on the barren table.

"Get out," he ordered the man, as Jill kept thrashing about. The man nodded quickly and rushed out of the room, leaving the poor girl alone with the monster. The door beeped once, and a final time as it slid closed. There was only a blur of black as he moved so quickly, Jill could not see his movements. She found herself on her stomach as he flipped her over and then felt his whole weight lying on her back. A cry echoed through the room as he forced his forearm against the back of her neck. To know his body was pressing against her had robbed her of her vocals and numbed her muscles.

" What have I told you about resistance? It would seem I need to remind you just who is in charge here!" he yelled. Wesker's threats were never to be taken lightly. All protest left her in fear for the pain that would come. In an instant the warmth of his body against her back left and she found herself being flipped onto her back and slammed hard into the bed. His gloved hand closed tightly on her throat, squeezing the voice box and cutting off the esophagus. Smaller hands clasped to his wrist as she kicked out uselessly, gasping for air that would not come. Wesker straddled her waist as he choked her, looking down at her impassively. A strange feeling made his nerves tingle as he watched her beneath him, struggling weakly, her eyes wide with fright. It make him smile wickedly.

" Beg for me to stop, Jill," he ordered. His fingers let up only enough for her to be able to speak to him. A strangled cough escaped as she clawed at his forearm, her eyes watering up.

"P-plea...se...s-sssto..pp...We...sker...!" she managed. The grasp slowly let up. Air ripped through her lungs as her body relaxed under him. Wesker stared down at her for a while, watching her regain her bearings. The hand that rested on her neck still now moved. the thumb caressed the side of it, as the other fingers curled around, cradling the shape. Slowly he leaned to her, and placed his lips at her ear. Every muscle tensed under the touch as she lay there without protest.

"Next time...I put you through one of these walls...are we understood, Jill? I will break you again and again until it sinks into that thick skull...there is nothing to be accomplished in resisting," he whispered warmly. Shudders ran through Jill's body. She never been this close and personal with the man unless it was with fists raised. A shaky hand raised to be put on his chest, trying to gently push him away, a way of letting him know he was invading her personal space. He relented slowly, sitting up on her stomach. Blue eyes stared at him a moment, quizzical.

"Wesker...Grenik told me...I had something you desperately wanted. What is that?" she asked as politely as she could manage. Amusement crossed his features as he looked upon her.

"In due time, you will know, Jill. Not right now," he said. It disappointed Jill. She been trying to guess what it was. What could she personally have that would be of any worth to him?

"Argh! You don't think I know myself or something? I have nothing to be of use to you! If it's just to be a pathetic way of getting back at Chris, that's really childish! What else can there be?" she demanded. Wesker sighed and pushed her back down, leaning down to her. His nose touched hers as he glared at her from behind the grey, smokey sunglasses.

" Believe it or NOT...there is something valuable about you. Valuable enough that my original plans to use you as a test subject for Uroboros have been changed. You're no longer eligible," he murmured. Wesker slowly got to his feet and stared down at the petrified Jill.

"Eat your food," he remarked before turning around and leaving the room. The door slid closed and she been left alone. Jill slowly sat up and balanced her elbows on her knees, wide, blue eyes staring at the cold ground. Wesker was hinting something was very valuable about her...enough for him to change his mind about using her for experiments. Wesker normally did not change his mind; once it was made, it was to be carried out. What kind of event had to have happened that derailed his stubborn resolve?

**[6:54 P.M.]**

Excella had been waiting in the observation deck above the main testing room. Stacks of papers were piled by her on either side of a bright laptop. The keys were clicking away as she was typing some reports up. The brunette's only clue that someone was entering the room was the door's old, creaky hinges. As Excella turned to see who interrupted her work, the stern look evaporated and was replaced with a delighted glow.

"Albert! How good it is to see you..." she purred.

"How is production coming along?" he asked, disregarding her flirtatious tone. The smile faded from Excella's puffy lips as she swiveled about in her chair and picked up a packet, handing it out to him.

" Uroboros, has made no progress...and the Las Plagas runs have been very successful. Tricell is pleased with those results, but they do want a few issues resolved; primarily the one regarding the non-existent survival rate of women and children being infected," Excella briefed. Wesker leaned against the counter again with folded arms, his head lowered a bit in thought. Uroboros was his primary concern. He thought he had corrected the figures...was the virus still too potent? Even if they were infused with Jill's antibodies? Did they need more of her antibodies rather than the virus?

"Has the cause for the lack of progress been pinpointed in the Uroboros project?"

"Well, the lab workers are thinking that the level of the virus versus the antibodies is still too high...We have had only one person withstand the virus for four minutes, but even they succumbed to a writhing mess of tentacles..." she said, sharing the same disappointment he did.

"On a lighter note, I met with designers! They design medical devices. I have entrusted them with the side project you want done, " Excella chirped. While the woman could be very annoying, she was quite resourceful and quick about getting things done. It was one trait he did admire about her. In a few days' time, they would hopefully have a good design that could inject the drug into Jill, and thus, be easier to control the fiery woman.

"Excellent...I am going to go and rest. Call if anything comes up," he said and left the place. He made his way down the dank, dim hallway. He figured to nap a bit before he revisited his little "guest". Wesker paused as he rested his hand on the button to a door. Earlier when he had been subduing Jill to prevent her from attacking, he had a sudden surge of energy he couldn't place. Seeing her struggling and clawing at him beneath his body had been...rather...

"No..." he whispered and slammed the button to the door with a fist. The incident in the shower bubbled to the surface. It was when he was sedating her to prepare her for the cryogenic sleep. The scent of calming chamomile, the feel of her warm, wet body lying -

"...She is nothing," he murmured and with that, the incident in the shower and her new cell had been pushed violently to the back of his mind and out of focus. He could afford no distractions.


	21. Value of Potential

Finally! My twenty-first chapter! I know it took a while. I am starting to round to the promiscuous sects of the story...and the reason why this chapter took so long, was because I was writing the ending at the same time. Yes, I already have the ending in mind! And it's going to be fucking awesome. XD So enjoy the chapter and remember, please review! Let me know what you, the reader(s), is/are thinking!

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Chapter 21: Value of Potential

**[August 1st, 2008. 11:00 A.M.]**

The weeks were nothing but a whirlwind. Days went by without the hours being noted, and before anyone in the facility knew, the month had changed to August. Great progress had been made since July, that had preoccupied everyone from noticing how quickly time had elapsed. All the progress had improved Wesker's mood. With Excella and Irving overseeing the experiments of the Las Plagas in Kijuju, and Uroboros being mass produced to be used in his final plans, he now had time to focus on his side project; Jill.  
Excella had managed to make a small stock of concentrated P30, nearly five times as potent and effective as the previous batches. The theory was while the previous batch of P30 could last roughly fifteen minutes on Jill, this newly concentrated form should last at least an hour.  
Wesker had time to think the past few weeks, and decide what he would do with Jill. There were many things he could force her to do while under the drug's influence. Anything from simply bowing at his feet to shooting the ONLY person in the whole facility to have befriended her. He wondered about something else though, something he never thought about doing before...until that day when he felt urges he hadn't felt for quite some time.

Part of him defied the very idea that would occasionally flitter through his thoughts. Jill was not worthy in his eyes. Given the immunity she had to every virus, or sub-virus of the Progenitor virus, she would not evolve with the select few chosen by Uroboros. If she was incapable of that, there was no room for her in his new world. Another side bargained with him rationally. She had to have some worth. Not everyone can develop such a strong immunity to the viruses like she had. Those very genes he was condemning were the very ones that made Uroboros into what it was. Would casting her aside so casually be a mistake? With all the business aside though, he could not deny that an inkling of physical attraction was beginning to manifest within him. It was but a mere seed and he was doing what he could to keep it from growing and revealing itself.

The cell was chilly. The woman laid under a heap of blankets to escape it, slumbering most of the time. Nothing was given to provide her with entertainment. The only time this solitude was disturbed was when Wesker was accompanying an employee with her food. The visits had come to be welcomed, a small break from the silence. It had been a while since Wesker had administered the P30 to her, and she wondered now if he was only storing her away until he found use for her. Just as Jill began to lapse into another nap, the door slid open. Heavy footsteps hit the cold concrete and echoed off the walls. A soft swish and the door closed again with a beep. Listening to the footsteps, she determined it belonged to only one person...and only one person had access to her cell.

"Jill. Get up," he said. She didn't move from the comfort of the bed. The blankets stayed bundled around her. She did turn around to face him, revealing she was awake and had heard him.

"It's cold," she muttered. Wesker stood at her bedside with folded arms, staring down at her.

"Too bad. I have plans for you and you will obey. Are we understood?" he growled. Jill glared back at the miserable bastard in front of her and wondered if she tried to do something totally out of character, if it would throw him off. It sounded funny but given the mood at the moment, she was not feeling up to it. She'd been warm and cozy, and now that only comfort was being taken away. Did he have some other drug to test on her?

"Fine," she consented. The warm covers were tossed to the end of the small cot and she stood. Bones popped as she straightened her body and stretched, walking to the door. She stood in front of it, waiting for Wesker to use the card and open it. With a swipe, and a single beep, the door pulled open quietly and she stepped out.  
Walking from the comfort zone of her own cell had Jill's body charged with nervousness. Out of the distressed response to being escorted from the cell, Jill stuck close to Wesker's side. It was not so much she felt safe with him as it was he was the only familiar thing she knew. That familiarity was the adhesive that kept them together...and it presented a problem for Wesker.  
While it was a menial comfort to know she would not run away and attempt to escape, the combination of his recent thoughts and her closure was causing Wesker to grow uncomfortable. It made the man realize that no matter how evolved he was or superior he may have felt towards the human race, the fact still remained that deep down...he was still a male.

**[11:45 A.M.]**

The blazing lights hurt her eyes and the cold temperature stung her flesh. The cell have been a degree warmer and more dim than the lab room Wesker taken her to. Wesker donned a powder white lab coat and was tearing open plastic packages containing small tubing and syringes. She'd grown used to these tools and bit her bottom lip. Wesker sat down on a small stool as he disposed of the packaging that contained the supplies. A drawer to the table was pulled open, revealing boxes of various sized gloves. A pair were tugged out. The latex snapped onto his skin when he pulled them onto his hands, and she suddenly had the feeling of being a child again in a doctor's office.

"I'll be taking more samples of your blood, Jill. It's simple, and normal. Nothing new from giving blood samples at a hospital. As long as you cooperate, this will go smoothly," he instructed. A defiant glare was thrown his way. Wesker was about to roll over and grab her arm, but before he could, Jill held her arm out for him and turned away. It seemed at last everything he been telling her had finally begun to sink in and make sense. Defiance would get her nowhere.  
The pierce of the thick gauged needle made Jill jump lightly. The sharp penetration hadn't been comfortable for her. It was brief and the moment it ebbed away she settled. Wesker watched as the blood leaked down the tube into the vial and sealed it before it overflowed. The vials were marked and set aside on the table while he grabbed a cotton swab and pressed it gingerly to the needle in her arm. The needle was pulled swiftly and two fingers pressed the swab down to prevent open bleeding.

"Here," he said. Jill applied her own fingers to the swab while Wesker took his away. The gloves were peeled off and thrown into a small wastebasket. Sticky labels were placed on the vials and in a neat handwriting, Wesker placed her name on them. The tubing and needle were cast into the same waste basket while he stood. He left here sitting there while he went to store her blood away.

"Is that it?" She asked as he approached her again. A small smile played on his lips as he came closer and sat on the stool. Cattish, red eyes stared into her won baby blues that were narrowed in defiance. It was something to see her still stubborn and hating his very essence, but being able to take control of the reigns and prevent herself from doing something incredibly...foolish.

"Hardly...there is more in store for you today..." he drawled on, sitting against the small back of the seat. The news didn't serve to calm the rioting nerves within Jill's body. Given the drugs they had tested on her, the blood they been taking and the occasional fights, there was fear that was all her life would be composed of under his guidance. There was no sense of enjoyment or satisfaction to be met on her end. Jill hung her head low as she began to realize this. It had taken so long for it all to finally sink in that she may not get out of this alive. Boots scuffled as he stood back up to retrieve something. The woman didn't look up, too overwhelmed by the brutality of the situation. Something fell onto the table beside her that caught her attention. Blue eyes scanned over the material.  
It was clothing. The material looked like a durable leather substitute, that would allow free movement. It was all one piece from what she could tell. A loud clatter broke her attention. The two VZ61 guns Wesker had allowed her to use before were put on the table, along with leg holsters. A pair of boots matching the suit before were set down as well. did he expect her to wear this?

"What...is this?" she asked incredulously. If she had not known Wesker for the man he was, she would have taken this as a perverted attempt to be able to check out her figure.

"A battle suit. It's lightweight, breathable and fits snug to the body to allow maximum movement," he explained in a professional voice. "Put it on."

Jill snapped her blues on him, wide with shock.

"Now?" she asked stupidly.

"...Did I stutter?" he asked, a thin, blonde brow peeking from above the rim of the sunglasses. The embarrassment heated her cheeks as she thought about having to undress in front of him. An irritated sigh escaped the man as he glared at her and the refusal to obey his order.

"...It's not like I haven't seen you without clothing before, Jill, so spare me the privacy routine," he warned.

"..." Jill had thought to say something, but closed her mouth and obeyed. She stood and shed the loose clothing she been provided with all this time. The shirt and pants had been cast to the ground and forgotten as she stood at the table in only her bare skin. Wesker's eyes roamed over her lithe body. The woman didn't seem to notice as she grabbed the suit and unfolded it, his face betraying nothing of what he was thinking. The zipper was tugged down and allowed it to open widely so her body could fit into it. A single, smooth leg was slid into one of the pant legs, and was tugged upwards. The fabric stretched to accommodate her body's size and as Jill slid her arms in and tugged it in places so the suit felt comfortable, she found it fitted her perfectly. It hugged her body and curves, without making Jill feel like she was being constricted. The zipper was pulled up over her taut stomach, the swell of her breasts and then to her neck, hiding her body from the man standing in front of her.  
Wesker admitted he couldn't remember seeing anything more attractive than what he just seen. Since the fall, he'd seen her body naked and covered in cuts, and bruises. She'd been naked when they placed her in cryogenic sleep and he thought nothing of it then. Carnal thoughts were racing through his mind and it took every ounce of energy he possessed to prevent himself from caving in to those sort of weak and useless desires.

"It fits well. Put your arms out and move them in a circular motion," he instructed. A bit of hesitance prevented Jill from readily obeying. In the end, she did as she was asked as he circled to better view every angle of the suit.

"No restriction in your movement?" he asked her.

"No...it gives more than enough. Movement's easy," she replied.

" Crouch down then stand again."

Jill gave an irritant sigh, a sign of her opinion about how she felt. As she crouched to the floor, and stood up, again there was no resistance. The suit felt like it was part of her own skin.

"How does it feel?"

"It...clings well. I don't feel any resistance and it isn't too tight. It's fine," she replied softly. It was a mystery why he wanted her in such a get-up. A pair of pants or shirt like he wore was more ideal and much preferred. Why did she have to wear this risque thing with a front zipper for?

" Good. This will be your 'uniform' so to speak," he told her. "Now...it's time for a field test on it."

Field test? Shit. Jill knew where this was heading. As she turned to protest, she found herself held tightly to his front by an arm and a familiar sting to her neck. Fingers clawed at his chest as she felt the drug flooding through her veins. Bright, blue eyes widened as she gasped, trying to fight the drug. This instance felt different from the others. The drug was more powerful, more quick than before. The struggle to regain control was lost faster than before and she slumped in his arm for a moment.

"Glad you agree, Jill. Let's go," he said, with a smug smile.

**[12:50 P.M.]**

Bloody, decayed bodies littered the floor. Wisps of smoke rose from the barrels of the VZ61 guns. An endless number of empty shells surrounded the blonde in the skin tight battle suit. Two zombified men came running at her while she stood there with the spent guns. Teeth bared fiercely as she threw the guns to the ground and charged. Her body moved gracefully as she ducked under one of the punches. Jill stood back up and grabbed the back of the arm belonging to one of the infected. With a swift pull, the zombie, who was twice her size, hit the ground with a sickening thud. A hard heel stomped down onto the deteriorating head. A squelching sound echoed through the room as its head was mashed apart by the force. As the other zombie came forth, Jill did a front flip toward it. Strong, slender legs fell onto its shoulders and locked around its head. With all the strength she could muster under the P30's effects, she sat up with her legs locked around the enemy's head. With a swift turn of her body, the neck of the leather fleshed man snapped. The body became limp and stumbled. Jill flipped off the disposed subject as it fell to its knees and flat to the ground.

"Bravo...good work, Jill," Wesker praised as he approached. The last two had been dispatched. Jill's eyes turned and focused on the blonde approaching her. While Jill was amazed, disgusted and fearful of what her body was capable of, she had to admit the rush of power she felt was glorious.

" Well then. It seems the concentrated batch of P30 is highly effective. One hour has elapsed since I administered one dose and you still are under the influence," he mused. The man circled her and glimpsed every part of her body, scouring for signs of her resisting the drug. Within minutes, he saw her finger quivering on the trigger.

"I wonder what Chris is going to think..." he murmured behind her, " when he eventually comes in search of you...to find you as one of his enemies."

The strong will the woman possessed broke her free from the drug's imprisonment. She swiveled on her heel only to be grasped tightly by the man. Eyes glowed a dim red behind those shades as she gasped. She'd been met with yet another needle to her neck, and began to suffer the effects immediately. Dropping to her knees and clawing at her afflicted neck, she screamed out. Once the initial dose took effect and she calmed, Wesker cast a faint smile at her. He found a way to negate two problems he was currently focused on.

"Jill...come," he ordered. The woman slowly got to her feet and did as told, holstering the two high powered guns.


	22. The Twined Enemies

FINALLY! I know...well here is your smut you pervs! But, don't think it's just smut. This smut will serve a serious purpose at the end of this story. and before anyone goes "Omg she's pregnant!" that is a distinct possibility...but not my MAIN purpose why Wesker caved in and handed control over to desires. You will see at the end. Enjoy! PLEASE review!

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Chapter 22: The Twined Enemies

**[1:04 P.M.]**

Tan, suede couches rested upon a deep, burgundy rug. The floors were hardwood, but were aged and in desperate need of wax and oil. Beat up shelves held various books, perhaps the only new things in the room. The dim lights emitted a soft glow and gave the room the feeling of an classic, olden-time fashion. The door closed behind them and was locked so no one would disturb them. It didn't take Jill long to deduce this was Wesker's private quarters. It was the only place she seen so far furnished in this place, and the only place that boasted such comforts as couches and rugs. Every part of her knew something wasn't right. Why would Wesker bring her into his own quarters for?

"Jill, there will be some ground rules laid down while you are here," he explained, leaning against the back of the couch. " One. You will obey every command I give, and any command Excella or Irving gives as long as it does not involve harming yourself or me. If those two give you a command that conflicts with mine, you will refuse and tell them why. Two. You will not try escaping. Three. You will not try and draw attention to yourself under any circumstances. Four. Anyone who is after me or tries to stop me, you will take out. That even includes Chris, if he shows his face. Are we clear?"

Jill inclined her head slightly in understanding. She was still aware of everything being said and done, and she was at a loss why she was inside his room.

"I do suppose you're wondering why you're here, even though you aren't asking me. I have one last test I want to perform against the P30 and how strong its effects are," he reasoned. So far all the tests on the drug and her had been in labs or arena-sized rooms...what kind of tests could be conducted in living quarters?

"Follow me," he said dully. Jill followed him without a moment's hesitation, being lead deeper into a sense of danger her conscience felt. While all kinds of warning signs were present and reminiscent of all the red flags she been taught to recognize, they were ignored. The drug controlled her, whether she knew what was right or wrong. A warped, old door creaked open at Wesker's push on it. The room was large, and more than enough for one person. As they walked in, the door drifted closed.

" I have tested the P30 on you with highly successful results in many areas. Your capabilities for one, have been enhanced to a remarkable state. Two, it works well as a mind controlling drug...the only adverse effect is obviously...you're still aware of the actions your body is told to do," he said with a hint of a smile. "The extent of the control is still to be determined. I can make you move your body in ways your mind has not trained it to move. I have made you kill someone who had shown you kindness who you wouldn't have harmed otherwise...but here comes a little lesson from me, as we breach that subject about Grenik."

Wesker walked to the four post bed and leaned on it, arms folded over his chest. Jill stood rooted where she was, eyes swiveling about to just take notice of her surroundings. This was the master bedroom. The large bed, the small dresser and mirror, chair with an ottoman and small table, the nightstand by the bed and the lamp atop it. Basics for a room which held no personal decor.

"Months he had taken care of you, and was a major part in your recovery. He'd been kind enough to give you a potted flower and books. Even sat with you and had leisurely talks from what I gathered from the nurses...yet even he, when his family had been threatened, turned on you. He betrayed you. Life...is full of betrayal no matter how one views it. Even Chris...you would think by now I would have heard some indication of him coming to search for you...alas. Nothing. Perhaps he even believed the lies and thinks you're really dead. Even he could be capable of betrayal," he mused.

"This world is weak. Far too weak. Decay has set in and it's time for a new era; a rebirth of the human race," he said finally with his head tilted to the ceiling. "Perhaps in time, you may realize what I mean."

The speech had touched raw nerves in Jill. For Wesker to speak about Grenik so cruelly, and paint Chris in a negative way had upset her. The drug still had a strong foothold on her and her stoic face did not reveal the turmoil she was experiencing.

"As for the final test I have regarding the extent of the P30's effectiveness. It will be conducted here. Let's see how well you obey orders that conflict with the matters of your heart..."

The last sentence made Jill's head snap up. As the blonde man approached her with an intent she had never picked up from him before, all the underlying warnings she felt came to full circle. Part of her was hoping that he was not that kind of man. _What is he doing? The look he has in his eyes, his body language...it's foreign. I...I don't recognize it. The fighting style he uses, has no movement like he is displaying. There's something...carnal about his attitude. Shit, I am in a bedroom. My initial thoughts have to be correct. Is he really the kind of man to force me to do anything remotely in that...nature? God, help me...please! I don't want to! _

The predatorial man circled her with his eyes inspecting each curve of her body. Arms were held behind his back as he moved. Jill kept her head down, awaiting orders. Fists were clenched at her side but there were no other indications she would break away from the P30 just yet.

"Take off the guns and the holsters," he instructed. The two machine guns were taken out. The woman walked to his dresser and set the heavy weapons atop of it. Nimble fingers unbuckled the leather straps. The two holsters that had been strapped on her legs were pulled off and set next to the guns. With the first order completed, she turned around to face him.

"Very good. Now. Remove the boots," he continued. The man stood before her with only a few feet between them. The room was dim, yet he still wore those persistent sunglasses. Jill was no fool. Even with those sunglasses barring her from looking upon his eyes, she knew they were hungry ones. What had gotten into him for him to suddenly be requesting something like this? The boots slid off her calves easily and were dropped to the floor. The task was complete and with the pattern of the requests, she had a good idea what the next one would be.

"Unzip the suit," he asked next. Nimble fingers pinched the tab and brought it down slowly. Inch by inch, naked flesh was revealed to him. As the male approached her, he put a hand on her shoulder and circled around. Not a muscle twitched as he touched her and came into close proximity.

" Are you scared yet, Jill?..." he whispered from behind her, over her ear. Gloved hands rubbed down her arms as he stood closer to her, pulling her against his front. Lips played at her earlobe, a soft, rolling chuckle falling onto her skin. The voice echoed seductively in her head.

"How strong...will the drug hold? If I told you-no. _Ordered_ you to perform sexual acts? I violated your morals by commanding you to kill a friend. Now...how strong will you rebel if I were to violate your body?" he murmured. While Jill showed no hint of panic or interest when Wesker suggested this, her conscience was overcome with dismay. While Wesker may have been many things...was he really the kind of man to force someone's will in such a degrading way? Strong, large hands moved up her sides firmly, before reaching around and cupping her breasts. It earned a gasp from her throat as she tensed. It was an action apart from her conscience, belonging solely to her body's nerves and the wiring of her system. Being touched like that was a turn on for her.

" I always get what I want, Jill. No matter how much money gets in the way, or how many people..." he reminded her. _You sick, vile, disgusting bastard! Just when I thought you could not get any worse! You turn out to be a monster to humanity...and a shallow, pig of a rapist! Albert Wesker, I hate you with all my being. All my energy! _It seemed he was getting a good laugh at her not being able to defend herself while he did anything he desired.

" This suit...as nice as it does look on you...is another thing in my way," he growled. The fabric was roughly forced down from her shoulders. Cool air swept over the top of her chest and shoulders, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Gloved fingertips grazed the bare skin playfully, as he silently watched her, debating what he wanted to do.

"Take it off," he ordered. The obedient woman stepped away from him and began to strip from the clinging battlesuit. The material was peeled from her pale skin and kicked off along with her boots. A plain, black thong clung to her hips, and the last remaining shred of clothing. The woman continued to stand there with her back to the other occupant, who took to admiring her figure. Jill was crying inside, feeling far more humiliated than she ever had.

"That's a good girl, Jill...get on the bed for me. I want to watch you pleasure yourself for a while," was his next command. The woman did as told and walked to the edge of the large, sprawling bed with a thick, cozy comforter. Wesker followed slowly, arms folded over his chest as he stood at the end of the bed and witnessed Jill in a way he knew maybe only Chris had seen her.  
She laid on her back as her thumbs hooked into the thong, and pushed the material down. A foot kicked it off completely and to the end of the bed where Wesker stood. The naked female was propped on her arms as she stared at him with her light, blue eyes. Wesker's head tilted to the side as he contemplated the scene before him. Ordinarily, he was not a man who would quickly cave in to these carnal, bothersome instincts, such as sexual desire...but among the torture of battling his own thoughts about whether or not to take action, he found a solution. Having a sexual relation with her was benefit him in three ways, one of which would act as a failsafe.  
A slender hand began to toy with the soft folds between her legs and rub all her own spots she knew felt heavenly. Wesker's analytical eyes memorized the areas she touched more than others, studying her like he would any of his specimens. The small, hard nub of hers when brushed by her fingertips made her leg twitch in pleasure. Facial muscles tightened as she strained, her back arching off his bed. Two probing fingers pressed into her and made herself gasp and grind her hips downwards. Shudders of ecstasy was beginning to rock her body.

" Do you feel good, Jill?" he asked, half amused at how compliant she'd been.

"Y-yes..." she breathed, her body beginning to quake and reach it's orgasm.

"Are you going to climax?" he asked, a blonde brow arching slightly over the rim of his sunglasses.

"Yes!" she cried out, seconds away.

"Then cease your actions," he ordered sharply. A whimper of loss fell from her lips as she obeyed, shivering and aching for something, or someone to push her over that edge and allow her to experience that rush of bliss she was seconds from having. That adrenaline fueled tension that had wound itself into a frenzy in her lower abdomen was beginning to decline in its intensity. The nightstand had a small, white lamp on it and Jill wondered how long it might take for this drug to wear off. If she could lure him to bed and use the lamp to smash over his head, would she be able to escape? _No...I'd be fucked in more ways than one. No pun intended...a lamp isn't going to knock him out, Jill, think! He can take bullets to his body and not falter. Is there no way out of this predicament? If he decides he does want to ...have sex with me, then...it does leave him vulnerable. I just don't know what I can do to incapacitate him long enough to get out...I'd have to get the card key from his pants, open the door...and pray I am going the right way...even then...the risk is too high, and the possibilities too uncertain. _

"Jill. Are you calmed down?"

"Yes..."

"Then resume. This time, do not rush. You're not allowed to bring yourself to an orgasm, are we clear?"

"...Nnn, yes. Wesker..."

Slender fingers resumed their work on herself, bringing gasps and moans from her lips. Any time she felt the tension on the brink of snapping, she would slow her own pace and follow the order given. It was torturous, and above all, humiliating. It occurred to her he seen her nude before while she was in cryostasis...but that had been more of a neutral setting.

"What do you need, Jill?" Wesker started, walking to the side of the bed, looking down at her arching and rocking against herself atop his covers. Hazy, blue eyes turned to him as two digits worked themselves in and out of her, the soft, tight walls beginning to slicken with her desire.

"I...I need...need an end...to this...please," she begged.

"Hmm. That is not a satisfactory answer, Jill. Please. Rephrase. What is it you..._need_?" he pushed. A shaky, highly aroused Jill cried out in frustration as she could not hold back her words.

"You! Wesker, you...just fuck me!" she pleaded. A few moments passed as Jill cooed to her own administrations before Wesker gave her his answer.

"No. Not yet...I rather enjoy watching you like this," he said smugly. The drug was still in control of her, her comment being the evidence. What was just said the real Jill would never admit so openly or easily. The look of irritation crossed her as she masturbated harder. Wesker frowned and glanced at his watch. It had been nearly twenty-five minutes since he last injected her with the concentrated form of P30. If he was going to follow his theory that this concentrated form would last approximately one hour, he didn't have much time to waste before he had to wrestle her down and give her another. That would be troublesome if he didn't take care of the matter now.  
Wesker reached into his pocket and took out a slim, black case containing four doses of the new P30. It was set on the nightstand next to the lamp, close, in case he needed it quickly. Soft puffs of breath escaped her pouted lips each time she thrust her slim fingers into herself. The zipper to his shirt was tugged down and the shirt itself shrugged off and thrown across the room. Teeth pulled off each black glove that got discarded to the floor. Before she regained control, he now had to assert his own over her.

" Stop," he told her. Jill did, her breath erratic from the ordeal. Wesker climbed onto the bed and kept wary eyes on her. _What is he going to do? Shit, I don't want this! I can't seem to SAY it though, or stop him because of this drug! _The man positioned himself over her, a faint tinge of red glowing from behind the smoky lenses. Each hand rested on either side of her head as he stared down at her, trapping her under him. Never once had she been paralyzed with fear before when she came in contact with him, or fought him. This moment, she found she couldn't move...and knew it had nothing to do with the mind controlling substance in her system. She did not know what to expect to come from this encounter.

" Relax...I'll give you what you want in due time," he chided. As he lowered his head so his lips could sweep over her collarbone, Jill felt her heart quickening. It was unlike the pace earlier; quicker and stronger. The moment his lips came in contact with her bare skin, she sucked the air through her teeth and arched her back. The two had only ever known one another through hatred and battle; for him to touch her in any other way aside from a blow was unnatural...and tantalizing. The mere thought of having something no one could ever have, that would have been expressly forbidden, charged her. Long ago, she had thought about these things with her captain...until she learned the truth.  
The trail of kisses edged down her body after the collarbone. He'd taken time to give attention to her supple breasts, causing a blush to rise to Jill's cheeks. It never occurred to her he would be savvy in bed, due to his ever present stoic attitude. Realizing what he was going to do, Jill tried to protest. It was to no avail. She was still too weak against the liquid enemy in her body.

" Be honored, Jill. I am not usually this generous," he said. Glazed orbs stared at him as he kissed over her flat abdomen, naked, rough hands smoothing down her sides. _Is he...going to do what I think he is about to do? Don't do this, Wesker! Stop and just say you were testing me. Don't violate me! _Jill moaned loudly when she felt his warm tongue lapping at her wettened folds. Hands kept her thighs pried open, as he teased her sensitive bud and dipped into her center. A stray hand found its way into his blonde strands, lightly pulling the hair as she arched and shuddered. Fingers grasped her hips more, massaging the muscles. The thumbs moved to a more softer, sensitive spot just above the hip bones. They pressed firmly, stroking and rubbing and bringing her to that point she was at before.

"Wesker!" she gasped, her other hand's fingers grasping the covers tightly until the knuckles turned white. The tension was at its most frustrating. While she was against everything that was happening to her, she had to admit it all felt so good. It was a liquid honey sweetness she knew she could get drunk on. These were dangerous waters. When the drug wore off, would she have the right sense to fight him off or would she be too enmeshed in pleasure to care anymore?

"I'm...! Wesker, I'm going to...I can't ...hold back!" Jill tried to tell him. He'd been working her, even pulling her hips lower to thrust his tongue further into the quivering, slickened insides. The moment she told him that, he stopped and stared up at her with glowing eyes.

"No. You're going have to...I'm not allowing you to orgasm this way," he informed her. Stopping so suddenly had stalled the orgasm for a second time and left Jill highly frustrated and angry at him. The drug suppressed her desire to curse him out, but it didn't mean that her thoughts were censored. Leaving her wanting more like this was more than shameful. Seeming to understand what her true thoughts were, a smile formed on his glistening lips.

" Hn. Don't fret, dear. I said I am not allowing you to orgasm _this _way. There are many more ways to have you orgasm. But first...why don't you return my generous kindness?"

_Oh, he's got to be fucking kidding! He wants me to suck his dick? Shit..._Curiosity was beginning to seep into Jill's conscience. Laws of attraction were beginning to work on her. With lust and ecstasy beginning to take hold, wondering about other aspects of her worst enemy took place. It was unavoidable to think about now, since they were not in their normal setting, like battle. Eyes drifted to the large bulge in his pants and the question came to her before she could stop it. _How...big is he? Wait...I can't believe this. He's corrupting me beyond repair. I can't be thinking like this! Maybe way back then, in S.T.A.R.S...a little tryst in the office or something had been a fantasy, but...circumstances had changed since then! He is a vile, repulsive man! A merciless killer. How can I find him the least bit attractive now? After everything he's done to me? _  
Wesker crawled off her and laid on his back. Fingers removed the sunglasses finally, giving Jill the privilege to watch him, to see his facial expressions. Without the sunglasses hindering the visage, she could now read the desire plastered in his features. Why couldn't he get off with Excella? Why did she have to be the one he chose for this crap? She positioned herself between his legs, hands reaching for his pants and unbuckling the plastic belt. It snapped open and next was the button and zipper. Wesker watched her as she opened his pants to access the stiff bulge trapped there. Time was wasting, with maybe fifteen minutes left before she would be able to fight the drug successfully. He'd have to make sure he enjoyed this only a little bit and took her before the time was up. If she was under him, and near a climax before it wore off, chances were that she would not resist.

"You like?" he smirked. Jill's eyes had widened a bit in surprise at the large shaft. _How the HELL am I supposed to fit this in my mouth? Jesus Christ! _Tentatively, she took it into her hands and pumped it a few times before lowering herself. Pouted lips kissed the bulbous head before she slipped the first few inches into her hot, pressing mouth. A groan was pulled from his chest as she began to suckle on him. The tongue swirled powerfully around the tip, before the whole mouth plunged further down and sucked him back into her throat. A fist pounded on the mattress as his body felt an electric current zap his nerves. The hesitance he feared might have been her succession from her shackles disappeared as she scooted closer and started to attend to him dutifully.

"D-damn..." he whispered, his eyes rolling into his head as he gasped again. What she did next surprised him enough that he sat up half way. She'd pushed her mouth all the way down and taken him smoothly into her throat. Lips tickled at the hilt as the walls of her mouth caved in and she sucked him hard. The tongue thrashed about along the underside where it was highly sensitive. His jaw hung as shuddering breaths fell off his lips. If she continued...he wouldn't last long.

"Stop," he ordered harshly. At first she didn't seem to hear him as she continued, her hands placed on his thighs. Teeth clenched tightly as he pushed her off gently. The moment the cool air of the room hit the heated flesh he gasped. That had nearly backfired on him, ordering her to return the favor. A shaky hand patted the bed.

"Lie on your back," he asked softly, trying to regain control of his body. The woman obeyed without question and laid there with her legs sprawled open. Giving her a half smile, he climbed over her and kissed along the column of her throat again. _Ten minutes...she should be worked up enough to orgasm around the time the drug wears off. By then...hopefully she will be consentual of her own free will. If not...there are the doses on the nightstand. _Slender arms wrapped around his torso as he thrusted against her folds first, earning him moans.

" Tell me...what you want," he whispered at her ear.

"You..."

"Me?...To?" he pushed, pushing just an inch of his hardness into her for a tease.

"Please, I need...you to...need you to fuck me," she said with some trouble. It would seem the effects were wearing off a bit sooner than expected. With no time to waste, he plunged into her hot depths and nearly came upon entry. He buried his face into her neck as he felt those walls squeeze tightly around his arousal like a python. It was suffocating and send chills down his spine. Slowly he pulled out before thrusting back in with force. Nails clawed as his back as powerful legs wrapped around his hips, hugging him tightly. She was still receptive.

"Ah! AH!" she yelped as each thrust increased in force. Each, savory inch filled her beyond the capacity she thought possible. Jill couldn't deny the selfish pleasure she took from this experience. Larger, rough hands bit into her shoulders, using her as leverage to piston into the welcoming warmth. The wooden supports of the bed strained and creaked under their weight and force, threatening to snap. Only moments earlier the woman had protested mentally. Now, there wasn't a fibre of her being that denied what was being offered and given. _Have I lost it? Why is my body craving this? Why does it feel so damn good..._

"You feel...so good," he breathed, smothering her throat with his lips. Jill curved her lower half upward, her walls clenching tightly around him. Both stayed tightly wound to one another, with Jill's vocals filling the room with each thrust he delivered. He buried himself to the hilt, grunting with each drive. As Jill was on the edge for the third time since the start of this, he slowed down. Fear that he was going to tease her into oblivion occurred to her, and she couldn't take it. The power of the narcotic was slowly breaking, and her strong, stubborn will was beginning to seep through.

"Wesker, don't stop! Please..." she begged. The man only smiled at her as he sat back on his heels. Warm, thick juices ran down the insides of her thighs, proof of the fact she too was aroused by him. A hand picked up a leg and balanced it on his shoulder. The other thigh was pushed sideways as he scooted forward. He thrusted back into her and groaned, a hand grasping her calf tightly. Jill watched how he moved, how his abdomen's sculpted muscles tightened and relaxed with each impalement. The vision traveled upward to his face. It was strained as he called on all his strength to drive himself into her. Pearly, white teeth gritted tightly together as his red eyes became fixated on her, two burning embers that never lost their fire.

"I don't plan to," he said. Wesker leaned over her and forced her leg down to her chest. His left hand reached between them and began to pinch and rub on her hardened, prominent nub. Jill threw her head into the pillows as she hugged tightly to him, rocking her hips onto his pistoning arousal. The moment took them both by surprise as he came face to face with her, his arm wrapping around her tightly and bringing her against him.

"Wesker!"

"Yeah?" he asked, a sheen of sweat developing over him. Jill felt that her movement was more her own now, that everything she was doing was of her own volition. She leaned to him but he lifted his head, smirking at her.

" Please!" she pleaded to him.

" Please, what, Jill dear?..."

" Make me..."

"Make you...?"

He changed his pace, his hard, blurred piercings becoming more forced. he buried himself all the way into her and pressed his hips with bruising force to hers before pulling out and repeating the action. A thumb wildly rubbed her outward spot and judging by the elastic tightness of her, she was mere moments away.

"Make me cum! Don't! Don't stop! Don'tstop, don'tstop, don'tstop!" she begged in a panicked manner. This time, Wesker obliged. There was no more teasing or stalling. With a groan, Wesker's rhythm became erratic. He laid over her and nuzzled her neck as he pummeled into her. Jill's inner walls gripped him as tightly as possible, until he grunted against her skin and slammed into the very entrance of her own womb. She felt the plentiful jets of hot, thick seed fill her before her vision left her. A blinding, white light overtook her before her vision returned. When it did, she found his face hovering over hers. His muscular frame was quivering over her own. Jill slowly lowered her leg from his shoulder and placed tentative hands on his cheeks. Blue eyes searched his fiery ones, before she leaned up and doted a soft kiss to his lips. It stunned Wesker that she would be so gentle...conceding, he leaned in and completed her faint kiss, stealing her lips and deepening it. It was not like anyone was watching them here. They could do as they wanted without question.  
With a dark grin, he reached up and combed some of her damp hair back and away from her face.

"Oh...don't think this is it, Jill. I am far from being done with you..."


	23. Alternative Plans

Jeez, got a hell lot more reviews for that last chapter than any of the others. Only goes to prove how many smut readers we have XD! Not that it's a negative thing. I was also aware I got reviews disliking the sexual graphics of the last chapter. I have my own reasons why he did it, as you will find...he might be a bit fond of Jill, but is NOT in love with her. He isn't going to be skipping around, hugging her and saying he loves her. So those of you out there fearing Wesker is going to turn into a huggable teddy bear...breath a sigh of relief. He will STILL implement the P30 device.

Anyway, enjoy the newest chapter! Please review!

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Chapter 23  
Alternative Plans

**[5:04 P.M.]**

Among the heat and sweat generated between the two, one last orgasm was rode out with dying gasps and moans of pleasure. Without the P30 to lend her endurance, and relying only on her own strength and stamina, she felt wiped. Jill collapsed atop Wesker and laid there, soaking up the last fragments of the sordid, taboo affair. As each moment passed, the lingering bliss ebbed away and left her feeling completely used. By now, Jill had regained control and the narcotic had waned. Being in the throes of forbidden delight, after so long, had forced away her sense of morals. Now, after the spell had worn off, remembering everything made her sick to her stomach. She tried to hide her face in his warm, slick chest, squinting her eyes shut.

"We been at this for a few hours now, Jill...I take it the P30 wore off," he commented, a hand smoothing her mussed hair down.

" Yes..."

"How long ago?"

Jill thought about it while she kept her face hidden, effectively concealing her blush. It's hold had begun to crack around the start of her first orgasm she achieved.

"...Around my first orgasm," she conceded. At this point, the woman expected him to laugh and gloat, or to make some sardonic comment. Instead, he remained silent, and she felt the soft petting of her disheveled sea of blonde hair. The answer she given were also answers to many other speculations. She'd been consensual. She had enjoyed the encounter. The words she said and things she done had been of her own idea. Silence reigned over them as both stewed in their own thoughts. While Wesker felt no regret for anything he done, Jill was overcome with it.  
Jill slowly rolled off him and laid beside him for a moment, a forearm over her eyes to hide the onslaught of silent tears that been brimming in the corners. Somehow the bed partner had sensed the sudden oncoming of sadness and tried assuring her the best way he knew.

"Anything that takes place here never leaves here, between the both of us. Are we clear?"

"Yes..." she said with a choked voice. He would have felt sorry for her, if he knew what it meant to do so. He could only try and speculate what she might be feeling now. Surely regret, because maybe in her way of understanding, she betrayed Chris. Wesker couldn't believe someone should think that but again, he never had a good grasp on how so-called upstanding "good guys" operated. The whole concept of friendship, honor and protecting others was beyond his scope.

"Is there...a shower?" she asked timidly, trying in vain to keep emotion from seeping into her voice.

"...The door to the right here. It's the bathroom," he answered. The girl bounced off the bed and rushed to it, slamming the door behind her. There were no worries, as Wesker knew there was no way out of the bathroom for her to try and escape. Plus...even if she tried, the idea of running around the facility naked looking for a way out would probably refrain her from attempting it. Wesker gathered the sheets around his waist and got off the bed, walking towards the partially closed door. He had no interest spying on her, but listening to make sure she wasn't going to try and grab something-a towel rack or the toilet lid, and try and attack him.  
Wesker stared down at an odd figure of an African guardian on a thin, long table pushed against the wall. He picked up the wooden figure, staring at its bejeweled eyes for a bit. It'd been a gift from the marshlands, where he implemented a test of the Las Plagas. They believed he'd been the foreman to the oil plant, rather gullible on their part. Now they were a village of parasite infected test subjects. Tricell was doing their assessment on the usefulness of the Las Plagas, and with Irving's help appealing to the black market, modified the parasite a bit to improve its shortcomings.  
Wesker walked back to the nightstand, clicking the black case open to reveal the syringes. He plucked one from the comfortable, velvet in-lining, and closed it. The needle was prepared, just as the shower turned off. He sauntered back to the doorway, leaning against the wall and folding his arms so the needle was concealed from her sight. He waited for her and in ten minutes she emerged, with her damp hair hanging around her face. A crisp, white towel was wrapped snugly around her body to hide the evidence of their lovemaking.

" I have you established in a room next to mine from now on, which during periods you will not be running errands or orders, you will stay there to rest."

Jill's tired, azure eyes only stared at him for a moment before being directed to the floor. Both were aware Jill was no longer brainwashed with the P30, and at any moment she could try and attack him, insult him or any other form of retaliation. As with any situation he found himself in, Wesker was prepared for it mentally, half expecting the woman to try and attack. Instead...she remained withdrawn and compliant.

"Get dressed."

He took a few measured steps away from her, predicting she would try and resort to talking to him, trying to plead with him. It would be a natural alternative in favor over futile attempts to inflict harm.

"Wesker..."

He stopped. His back remained to her as he sensed her approaching him slowly. The decision to give in to the baser instincts was only because of three advantages it granted him. Surely she would not think of this as anything ...more? Or look too far into it and think he had a genuine romantic interest? If so, she was delusional...and gave her too much credit.

"Jill?"

"I just want to know ...why," she replied sheepishly. Half a smirk graced his lips as he now could tell she had her guard down and was vulnerable. It was exactly how he needed her this moment. He spun on his heel and approached her, his arms carefully folded. Taking one arm, he reached out and captured her chin, tilting it upward slowly. He stood close to her, capturing her attention by looking deeply into her eyes. Jill was in a tumultuous war inside, wanting to tear away from that vile touch and wanting to give in to it as she gave in to him in bed. He leaned in and kissed her warm lips, the arm coming to encompass her waist and hug her close.

"Because, my dear..."

Jill's half-lidded eyes widened in shock, twitching when she felt that familiar needle pierce her throat. The whole contents of the drug was plunged into her jugular vein, a sure guarantee it would pump through her quickly. The emptied syringe was cast across the room as he felt her slacken in his hold.

"I could. Now. I wish not to ask a third time...get dressed," he ordered. He turned sharply away from her to retrieve his own clothing and dress. This time, Jill listened without a moment's hesitance. The slim, tight body suit was slipped back on and zipped up as he was finishing buttoning his pants. Both got their boots on and she waited silently with a stoic, emotionless facade. After shrugging on the leather coat, he smirked at her and nodded.

"Well then. I will show you to your room...and you will remain there until you are called upon."

**[4:50 P.M]**

Meticulously manicured nails tapped impatiently atop the glass table. Even a scowl looked quite attractive upon the Italian woman's face. The answer to the woman's seething attitude was Wesker was late for a meeting. It was to review the results of some of the test subjects in the marshlands. Wesker was normally very good about punctuation, and could always be counted on to be where he said he would. It crossed her mind that he might had slept in, and finally gotten some decent sleep. While she took her normal eight hours like everyone else, it appeared Wesker was not on the same biological clock as the rest. She would go get some sleep, wake, come back to the facility to resume her job and he still would be awake and working. The work ethic-no...the dedication he habored for his plans was highly admirable and worthy of praise...if it didn't get in the way of her efforts to seduce him!  
The door's handle clicked as he someone walked into the empty meeting room. The man was clad in his normal, black outfit and he always sent shivers of excitement down her spine. The pout she wore just moments ago quickly melted into a happier and more energetic attitude.

"Albert," she purred, folding her legs and leaning sideways on the table suggestively. " You're late...I am surprised."

" Hn. You'll be pleased to know I finally had gotten some rest and feel more relaxed," he replied, taking a chair at the corner of the long, glass table with her. A mirthful laugh fell off her lips as she stroked his arm gently, leaning in to see his eyes.

"It is too bad you slept alone. You could have had something...warmer, to help you sleep," she hinted. Wesker's head inclined to the side just a fraction as he gave a soft 'hn' and mere nod of his head.

"I have no need, really, Excella...thank you for your...generous offer," he paused, a hint of sarcasm coming from his tone. The message was received as Excella retracted her hand and sat more professionally in her chair. She tossed a few manila folders onto the space in front of him.

"Those marshlands looked truly gruesome. Anytime someone tries to pass through, they end up disappearing...a few have morphed into rather tall, and extremely strong, formidable opponents. The only problem we still to overcome is that pesky selection the Las Plagas presents. The men survive, while women and children die rather quickly..."

"That is of no consequence. You and I both know we used the Las Plagas as a diversion to keep Tricell from discovering what we are truly working on."

"Yes, but...Albert. They want these little matters attended to. For their sake of growing too curious about what exactly we are working on, if not the progression of the Las Plagas project..we ought to correct the issue."

Wesker was tapping a pen gently on the table as he thought about it. He had believed that they addressed this issue with Irving before. Maybe the man needed some reminding. The pen was cast away and rolled across the immacuate glass table top. Sending workers on the project was taking away the workers he needed for the Uroboros project. That aspect he didn't like.

"We cannot afford to take the workers off the Uroboros project. Once we have enough of the virus produced, then we could...using the infected military to load the missiles shouldn't be a problem. Just let Irving do it..but this time, I tell him myself."

Excella had been in charge mostly with the meetings regarding Irving. For Wesker to meet with the man in person, was not normally a good indicator the subject matter would be a pleasant discussion. It made Excella alight with the possibility to witness Wesker's strength and power once more. Seeing him use it, and display the aggression always struck a chord in her that made her weak in the knees.

"I'll call him right now and tell him to come down," she piped up cheerfully. A sleek, black phone was pulled from her small designer purse. Slender fingers swiftly dialed the number as she reclined in the swivel chair, and waited for him to pick up. As he did, she used her cheerful voice and told him she needed to have a quick meeting with him regarding the Las Plagas. Fooled by the tone of her voice, and fact it was her and not Wesker, he didn't think anything odd about it.

Wesker smirked at he watched Excella cooing to Irving to talk him into coming down to the facility. The poor man was not intelligent enough to pick up on the hint that because he has not fixed the existing problem for a while now, he might be met with a higher authority regarding the failure. It also was a blatant display of how humans were so weak, and so easy to use. Anywhere from Excella's blindness to how he used her to further his goals, or to Irving's sloppy and inability to detect when someone was lying. It was occurring to him that those who may survive the scourging, may not be mentally apt. Surely...that could be taught. And if not, then a second judgment will be passed and the new breed of human sorted out and carefully monitored. The realization that the new race could spiral downward to what was present today, could occur if he wasn't careful. The one thing he wanted to avoid, was history repeating itself.


	24. Looking for Progress

Another chapter! It is a bit short...but the mental stress he is about to put on Jill will be...well, devastating. Poor Jill might just lose sense of herself with the drug and all the psychological damage Wesker is forcing on her. Thanks for all the reviews! And let me know how you like the way the story is going.

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Chapter 24: Looking for Progress

**[6:10 P.M.]**

Something had sounded fishy about the call he received from Excella. The jubilant tone of her voice made him think she was luring him into a trap. It's true that some of the objectives he been trying to improve upon for the Las Plagas had failed. Some of the improvements came through and made the parasite stronger and more resilient. He wanted to skirt tail his shortcomings with the parasite still yet, and was growing frustrated and panicked about the delay. Surely she didn't...alert_ him _about the issue.

"Nah, that'd be a shitstorm...for me," Irving said defeatedly. That nagging possibility dampened the chipper mood he was in about Excella calling him and pleading for him to have an emergency meeting with her regarding the Las Plagas. She didn't seem to mention Wesker, which he was relieved for. He didn't know what to make of the two's relationship. It seemed Wesker treated her well, and was kind enough, but always held her at arm's length. No matter how hard she tried, he refused to allow her close to him. Irving wasn't as stupid as he appeared...he knew Wesker had no love interest in Excella, while all she could see what Albert Wesker. She was but a mouse standing idly, hypnotized, in front of a large snake who could strike at any moment.

The facility was still being renovated. It looked much better in the last months than ever before, and finally achieved at the very least, sanitary standards. The guards with their torn up faces and milky eyes, escorted him to the meeting he was to tend with Excella. He didn't expect anyone else to be there. When he pushed the heavy, steel door open to the chamber, the color drained from his face when he saw the blonde. He was in deep.

"Irving, have a seat," he said coldly. The two zombie guards shut the door behind him and left him trapped. Excella sat at the head of the table, a somber expression on her plastic features. The bitch had tricked him. The rattish looking man crossed the room and sat across the table from Wesker, feeling only slightly safer with the pane of glass between the two of them. The nervous man's jaw clenched tightly, trying to force down the bouts of nervousness rattling his body.

" I know we have discussed this many times, Irving. And I do recognize the improvements you have made, but...the issue with the women and children dying easily from the parasite will NOT do. Tricell is disappointed that we have not corrected this problem by now, are you understanding me clearly enough, Irving?" the blonde asked harshly. Irving gulped and force the dryness from his throat, nodding. He was afraid if he spoke, his voice would betray him.

"Can you even comprehend why I am pushing so hard on the improvement of the Las Plagas?" he asked.

"S-sir...we really been tryin'. We been tweaking with the parasites' side effects 'round the clock," he tried to defend.

" You will try again. Are we clear?" he threatened. " You know how important the Uroboros project is to me. If Tricell thinks we are unable to correct such a problem, they will investigate us, and try and find out where their money is going. We do NOT want them discovering my project. And if you fail me again..." the blonde tapered off, which instilled a fear into the jumpy man. Eyes flared a brilliant red from behind the sunglasses as a fist was raised and slammed hard through the table. The glass shattered and Irving fell back in his chair to the floor. Wesker stood and walked over to Ricardo, the glass crunching under his boots. A hand shot forward and caught Ricardo by the front of his shirt and he was lifted easily off his feet. His back slammed into the steel door behind him as Wesker held him there, glaring with those glowing embers.

" I will make sure you suffer when I kill you. You have one month to improve that pesky disadvantage!" he shouted, and dropped the man to the floor.

"Right away! I'll get on it, don't worry! Just...just needed that extra time! Thanks!" Irving stuttered as he rushed out of the room. The door slammed closed behind him as he fled. Excella had watched the whole situation enthralled and feeling a sense of awe rush through her when she witnessed the glass table shattering from just his fist. The raw power always had a way of captivating her attention.

"Well then. Perhaps I shall go and see into Kijuju. I know it was our first selection for a test bed over the marshlands, but given the issues...well, maybe now it's more suitable. He could try his new and improved batch there instead," she said chipperly. " Perhaps to keep our hands clean...we could have him and even Jill distribute it."

Wesker thought about that for a while before a grin spread across his lips. What would be more insulting to that woman aside from having her aware he could control her movements, tricking her into having sex with him and insinuating she may be the one to kill her long loved partner, Chris? Having her spread the plague of Las Plagas, a bio weapon she and Chris had tried so hard to stop. Revealing to her she was also the prime tool in helping reducing the toxic and fatal effects of Uroboros would the kicker. It would break her stubborn will and resort her to nothing but a pile of pitiful, weak existence...but that juicy tidbit of information would be saved for the last moment.

"Albert?..." Excella questioned with hesitance. She knew that grin of his meant he had come to a conclusion in his ulterior plans, and also knew someone was going to be suffering.

"Nothing. Do as you said, and report back to me. I am going to get a nap in, then head to the labs to work on the Uroboros," he said dismissively, and left the room.

**[ 10:00 P.M.]**

The room was quiet. Strung about were broken vases, chairs and other furnishings. Once the P30 wore off Jill, she was overcome by grief and fury which blinded her. She wanted to hurt something for all the pain and suffering she been through in the past year and odd months. Karma had been unfair to her. What had she done to deserve this? The only solace she felt was when she heard and seen a dish shatter into thousands of pieces, or when she heard the satisfying rip of the fabric when she tore into a love seat, or even the loud, clattering sound of a wooden chair breaking into pieces. Once the energy wore off she collapsed on the untouched bed and wept for a long time until no more tears could be produced. A sore throat developed from the crying and her nose was dripping.  
She went into the bathroom and calmed herself, cleaning her image up from the mess she made. She washed her face with some soap and water, and dried herself off. She recovered enough to walk with difficulty to the kitchen where the destroyed chair was. Remarkably, the table stayed intact, though a few cracks raced along the top from where she slammed her fists onto it. Her stomach growled loudly for nutrients. When was the last time she had anything to eat?  
She rummaged through the cabinets and refrigerator, and the more she stared at the food, the more she felt sick to her stomach. She could not forget what happened earlier. The voices-the screams, moans, groans, words all echoed in her head and she had to fight to keep the bit of bile in her stomach from rising up. A packet of cookies resided in the cabinet nad Jill took those, munching on them slowly. She sat on the couch and sighed, before casting the packet away angrily. The anger evaporated the moment she heard noise at the door...sure enough, there he was.

"Jill, I require you to accompany me to the labs," he said as he closed the door, a single beep signaling the locking mechanism. The woman only felt fury surge back into her flesh as she jumped up and lunged at him. Both knew it was futile, but all that pent up anger blinded her to reason. Wesker caught her wrists and turned, pinning her struggling body to the wall.

"Jill, dear...I am flattered you want more so quickly, but. I regret to say now is not the time for fun. This can go either way. I inject the drug into you to make you listen, or you comply of your own will and cause neither of us trouble...and spare yourself further harm."

Jill ground her teeth, then spat in his face.

"You son of a bitch! You fucking took advantage of me! You deceitful bastard!"

"My...so much flattery in one day...makes me want to blush," he said sarcastically. "Well, if this is how you want things to go, I have no choice..."

With quick movements Jill couldn't counter, he threw her across the room to the floor. In a second before Jill could push herself off the floor, he was on her. He straddled her stomach and jabbed the needle into her neck, leaning in to whisper at her ear.

"This is getting rather tiresome...if you would just listen, we could spare this troublesome routine. And besides..." He smirked, kissing her earlobe. " You liked it."

The drug began to kick in and soon her body became limp under his. Blue eyes stared at him as he released her and stood. She sat up and got to her feet beside him, not yelling or protesting him anymore. Wesker knew time was limited and he would need that device Excella had in development very soon. If he planned on letting Ricardo improve on the Las Plagas, he needed the device for the P30 completed around the same time.

" Come, Jill. I need to draw more blood from you, and have you assist me," he said, with malice in his features.


	25. Accepting a Cruel Fate

I am SO SO SO sorry for not updating! I hit the damn writer's block all over again! I am struggling through it now. So bear with me. I have not abandoned the story! Don't fear! I just need time cause I have a hectic schedule, and this writer's block has been a royal pain in my ass. Without further ado, I bring the 25th chapter of my story! Woot! And still ongoing! Leave me reviews, please let me know your descriptive thoughts about the story. Thank you and thanks for the patience!

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Chapter 25: Accepting A Cruel Fate

[10:40 P.M.]

The squelching sound of the flesh was disturbing to the ears. Blood riveted down the shiny, steel table as the grotesque cadaver stared blankly at the ceiling. The insides of the poor, young man were an array of dark, pustule-like growths. Whatever this was Jill was looking upon, it was nothing like she had seen before. None of these were characteristic of the Kennedy reports on the Las Plagas parasite, or of the T-virus that reanimated the dead into decaying zombies. What monstrosity had Wesker introduced to the world?

" Subject 0034-1857. Time of death, 9:40 P.M. Date, August 1st, 2008. Subject had retained the virus, Uroboros, for approximately four hours before succumbing. Body is riddled with black tentacle growths which have done detrimental damage to the internal organs. Subject is rendered incompatiable," Wesker's voice drawled onto a mic. He made a recording of every subject they studied that had been infected with the Uroboros virus, and keeping records on the dates, times and length which the subject endured the virus. Even with Jill's antibodies to help with the virus' introduction into the body, it didn't seem to be enough. This was frustrating for him.

"Jill, make an incision into his upper thigh. I wish to take a look at his muscle structure and the damage there," he asked. The scaple Jill held made a steady, deep cut through the layers of skin into the muscle tissue. Another was made across the incision, making a figure of a cross. Careful fingers peeled back the four corners of flesh and exposed the blackened, decayed tissue hidden underneath. Wesker stood beside Jill and sighed as he saw, taking over and pulling the skin further off. The corrosion the Uroboros had on its victims were extensive, even more so than the Las Plagas parasite. Maybe Spencer was a fool to believe viruses could kickstart a forced evolution in the human kind...but then, he wouldn't be alive if what Spencer believed in wasn't attainable.

"Hn. Seems I need to reconfigure the balance of the virus itself and the ...serum. Again," he muttered. He was going to say the amount of her antibodies he was using to combat the lethal effect of the virus, but he didn't want to reveal that so soon. While she was brainwashed for the moment, the real Jill was still in there and conscious of everything she was doing, and what went on around her...part of the reason why he requested her help in the labs. Helping him develop the same bio-weapons and viruses she was so intent on stopping...it was such beautiful irony and he thanked Excella for giving him the idea.

" Jill, I do believe we are done here...put the scaples in the cleaning solution. Then help me dispose of the body," he ordered. The scaples, clamps, tweezers and other tools were gathered onto a thick, cotton sheet and carried to a glass jar. The anti-bacterial and anti-viral solution was made to kill any trace of the virus, a cleanser made especially by Wesker for that purpose. The solution ate up the clinging, black flecks of flesh as they sunk to the bottom, lifeless. The two made quick work of zipping the body up in a body bag and throwing it into the incenerator. Flames caught and grew, devouring the infected body and sizzling the flesh, melting the tissue and muscle and creating a rather unpleasant smell.

" I'll want to draw blood from you soon...I want to have a look at your blood while you're under the drug's influence," he said. After tearing open the body of an infected test subject, the last thing Jill wanted was to be reminded she was in theory, a test subject as well. While the conscious part of her realized this, there was no way to display this contempt. Resigned, she didn't think much as she sat down and allowed Wesker to puncture her skin with a thick gauged needle and draw blood. After so long, Chris never came...and it seemed he never would. Was she destined to be in this hell for the rest of her life?

[11:30 PM]

The side project to develop a fitting device for the P30 had been handed to developers almost a month ago. While it was late, anyone who worked in the African Division of Tricell didn't know the meaning of the word 'late'. By normal standards, it was late at night, but Excella had decided to schedule the meeting with the developers to see how far they had progressed with developing a device according to Wesker's wishes. The projection screen showed charts and blue prints as the presenter held a protoype in his hand. Excella sat at the head of the table and drank in every word. The device looked nice, and it was fitting with Wesker's desire to have something easy to conceal and hold enough of the drug to last throughout a day. Still, it was ultimately up to him.

"So Albert...does it seem to be what you had in mind?" she asked softly while the man continued to give his speech. The other lab technicians were listening and giving nods of approval...while Wesker sat still as stone in his chair, hands interlaced together on the table. Even in the dark room with only a projector on, he still wore those shades.

"So it seems. The surgery may be a little messy...and the risks of implanting it doesn't seem very high. I would like to implement it on a few subjects first and see how well they do. Once I am satisfied, I shall implant it in Jill," he said quietly.

" ...The tubes can be surgically placed under the skin and connected to various key arteries to guarantee 100% effect within moments after a dosage is released," the man continued, and took a step back as the slide changed. "Also, this device can be linked to one's cellular device so if a dosage has to be administered quickly, all one has to do is open a application on the phone, and press a button."

Wesker perked some at that idea. If the device failed to automatically give her a dosage, then he could do it himself and override the default system. It was simply brilliant and he was liking the design more and more as the presentation went along. With it being a device one could implant, it ascertained it couldn't become dislodged and fall off. With the ability to activate a dosage remotely, it assured that she would always be under the P30's influence...and with the sleek design, it would be easy to cover up. It would make Jill his personal bodyguard that would not disobey.

"Further note, keep Irving working on the Las Plagas. We won't release it in Kijuju until Jill is outfitted with this device," Wesker instructed Excella. The Italian gave a slow nod and continued listening to the presenter. Excella felt silly feeling so jealous of such a toy like Jill. The interest he had in Jill was not romantic or sexual...it was simply sadistic. The woman had almost succeeded in killing him, and he was taking every measure available to drag her unwillingly through the worst hell imaginable. Halting the use of Las Plagas in Kijuju just so he could attach one of these controlling devices to Jill, meant he was seriously considering her idea of having her spread it. It was just another niche in the stick as far as forcing Jill to do things against her nature. Spreading the weaponized viruses that she was trying to stop. It was such beautiful, awe inspiring irony.

[August 2nd, 2008. 10:00 A.M.]

Wesker had slept fine in his own lodging. While most men would think back to the memories of what occurred in their bed, Wesker cared not. The sheets and covers that still held some of the markings from his tryst with Jill were cast to the floor and new ones brought from a closet. After making the bed with clean, crisp sheets, he climbed in and fell asleep. No dreams plagued his mind, and often never did. He was a man void of sentimental values, and even trained his own unconsciousness to not wander, like dreams do. When he woke, he stared at the clock and saw the time. It was ten, but for him that was sleeping in. He did stay up all day after that tryst, and then dealing with Excella and Irving...and that last minute meeting. He laid back in bed, for once in his life feeling a bit lazy.

It only lasted five minutes and he was up in the shower, getting ready for the day. Everything was a ritualistic habit. Shower, dry off, towel dry his hair, comb some gel through it in its normal style, eye drops, and brushing his teeth. Once he was dressed, and the sunglasses being the last item to be donned, he was ready for the day. Also he would have to find time today to get some information put together on a disk, a personal back up of data. Not to mention to check to see how his pet was doing, and if she hadn't killed herself yet. He still counted on the fact of Jill being a stubborn, proud woman to ever resort to such disgraceful acts. He did hope he was right in assuming she would never do such a thing.

He knocked on the door twice. No answer. Louder. No answer. Seeing she was not answering, he took out the keycard and unlocked the door to see what she was up to. Every part of him was on defense, knowing she may just be waiting for him to open the door before attacking. The door was pushed open slowly, but no vase came flying at him. No screams or insults. No one standing there with furious blue eyes, ready to attack. The door closed with a click and a beep. Wesker toured the room slowly, checking the kitchen that was in disarray from her tantrum. When he came to the bedroom, he found her on her stomach and sleeping under the thick covers. Her body was laid out, comfortable on the soft mattress and plush covers. For the first time since she was in cryogenic sleep, there was a peaceful expression on her face, so different from the scowls, tears and agony he often saw when she was conscious. Did it mean she was having pleasant dreams?

While Wesker was watching over her, Jill was trapped in her dream world. Things seemed pleasant enough. She was standing on a cliff watching the seashore. The roar of the waters below her, crashing against the side of the cliff echoed into the vast air. The sun was setting on the horizon, and darkness taking over. Jill sat down on a soft, green patch of grass watching the sun lower. The scent of the ocean filled her nostrils and made her feel free. Clouds on the horizon were beginning to form, billowing into the top. Bolts of lightning struck over the waters. It was a troubling sign. A wind came from behind her, pushing her. As she turned, he stood there on the forest's edge in all black. He gazed at her, hands held behind his back.

"Come," he said. Jill shook her head no furiously, refusing. She looked down into the water, seeing a small boat. Chris was on there, and shouting. Distantly, she could hear her name. He was calling to her. She looked to Wesker on the forest edge again. Should she jump into the water and swim to Chris? Wesker came to her side and knelt by her, holding out his gloved hand. Azure eyes stared at it for a while, then slowly drifted to his face. The sunglasses were puled down, revealing the orange-red cattish eyes. While she knew of the atrocities listed under this man's name...she felt calm here with him. Chris yelling still reached her ears and she cast curious glances over the cliff to him. Still, the one that robbed her attention was Wesker.

"Come," he said again. Where to? To the forest? The dark, forboding forest? She placed her slender hand in his, not sure why she would. A spell worked their magic on her as her legs stood her up and she was led by the man with the red glowing eyes and devilish smirk to the dark forest. Chris' voice was faint and too far off for her to hear anymore. Eyes looked back one more time to the fading hues of the dead sun before she disappeared into the inky depths of the forest.

The thought of following him into that forest sent many warnings through her and scared her to the bone. Jill woke with a start, springing up in her bed and gasping for breath. Widened, azure eyes scanned the room quickly and soon found more reason to be fearful. The man was standing over her, staring down at her with a stony face. Jill cringed inwardly and drew her body closer together, and away from him. After everything that had happened in the past day, she didn't want to be anywhere near him.

" Go away," she said, looking down at her wrinkled sheets.

" I cannot," he said simply. Jill stared at the sheets, and after so long, realized it was all futile. Chris would never come. The BSAA would never come. They thought Wesker and her were dead. Trying to escape would never work. Either she would get a beat down by Wesker or be chased down by the others working in the facility. They were far underground, and there was always an eye on her. Wesker made it impossible for her to escape, and the only option was subservience.

"I have come to make a regular check on and also to inform you to be showered and ready within two hours. I will be coming back to collect you," he said. The man turned on his heel and left her alone in the room. Eyes followed him out and watched the door lock. A defeated sigh drifted over her lips as she hung her head and decided to give up. Whatever she had done to deserve this hell, she had to accept it.


	26. Seeds of Self Doubt

I know it's been a month! Slow updates and I apologize. Mortal Kombat's been keeping me busy! But here is another chapter! I hope you all enjoy. Now I got to run off to work before I'm late! Let me know what you think and please review!

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Chapter 26 : Seeds of Self-Doubt

[ 12:12 PM. ]

As promised, Wesker came to get Jill. While he was met with a furious glare and a rather uptight Jill Valentine, she complied to his orders. The final conclusion was there was nothing she could do to get away. There was no hope. If it was true it's been over a year, then Chris and the BSAA were not coming. What use was there to hold onto a foolish belief that she would be rescued? She was stuck with this monster, probably for the rest of her life. It was horrible and unfair karma. There was nothing she could think of in her life she done so atrocious as to deserve this.

"Glad to see you have realized how utterly futile it is to resist me," he said smugly. Jill balled her fists up, wanting to punch him. She found the self control she needed and calmed her racing heart. Nothing was said in retort to his comment and she simply continued to follow him dutifully. Wesker would glance back to make sure she was following him which she caught.

"Where are we going?" she dared to ask. Wesker spared her a look before deciding to tell her what he was planning. While he had instructed her to listen to both Excella and Irving, he had realized he never introduced her to him. If she was to be expected to work with Excella and Irving, she was expected to know them. Once the final P30 device was completed, then he would no longer need to supervise her either and she could accompany them without a worry.

"To meet Ricardo Irving," he informed. Jill had heard the name once she thought, but she couldn't be sure. She sure didn't like the name Ricardo though. It sounded too cheesy to her, and for some reason made her think of Louisiana or Florida. She said nothing more, afraid if she did she might ened up regretting it. She was led through a maze of hallways, and a few lifts. After a while, she had stopped trying to memorize the directions in her head. The place was like a labyrinth. They stopped outside a door with no markings on it to indicate what lay behind it. Wesker gave it a push and she followed in. The room had a long, heavy table (replacing the glass one Wesker had destroyed) made of thick wood and many seats situated around it. Bright lights blazed above them as they walked in and saw two people sitting at one end of the table. Excella she recognized. The greasy, cheesy looking man had to be this Irving that Wesker spoke of.

"Jill. Sit," he commanded. She gritted her teeth, biting the tip of her tongue for pain to prevent herself from snapping back at him. The seat she sat in was across from the table where Excella sat side by side. Despite the horrid things he done to her, she felt more safer around Wesker than the other two. She also didn't trust Irving's lewd eye looking her over. It was repulsive and given the past day and a half, she didn't want to think about lewd thoughts, or men being perverted at all. It only served to steepen her fury.

" Oho, she listens very well! Is this the result of the P30?" Irving asked. Excella chimed in, chortling at the idea and stared at Jill for a moment.

"She has become obedient as a dog. Not there was much difference to begin with," she insulted. Jill was about to leap over the table untilshe felt a heavy hand grasping her shoulder, the fingertips squeezing and biting into her flesh. Even the battlesuit didn't serve to cushion the strength Wesker possessed. It stayed her in her seat and kept her from leaping across the table.

" No. She is not under the drug at this moment...and I ask you both to refrain from future insults, because next time I will not hold her back," he warned. Excella's puffy lips thinned as she clenched her jaw and folded her arms over her ample chest. Wesker sat beside Jill as a way to make sure she didn't decide to jump over the table and attack the two. As annoying as they both could be, they were vital to his plans.

"Irving, this is Jill Valentine, the one I have told you about," he introduced. Irving put on his widest, cheesiest smile and straightened his white suit coat out. If he had hopes of impressing Jill, he would have been smarter to abandon them. Wesker noticed how Irving leered after Jill and he decided he would have a private conversation with the man about ANY intentions he might have.

"Jill, these two you will listen to without disobedience. If you don't, you will end up more broken than you were falling from that cliff," he said. The threat was enough to give Jill a shiver of fear, as the memories of that night were thrown into sharp relief. Fear only crossed her features once before she gave a reluctant nod in agreement.

" However, if anything you two tell her to do anything that endangers her, or go against my plans, then she will not be obliged to obey," he warned. The warning didn't phase the two as they shrugged. Wesker sat back and took this as a good sign. nevertheless, he would have to have a talk with Irving. Wesker stood and looked to Excella and Jill. Leaving those two in a room together was not one of his brightest ideas but he did not want either of the women overhearing anything he had to say to the lecherous and shady Irving.

"Ricardo. A word," Wesker said and walked out the door. The man felt tension as he stood and followed. Memories of being slammed through the glass table and against the doors were still quite fresh in his memory. Once outside the door, Wesker slammed it closed so the girls would not hear them. That ever stoic face stared right into Irving's frightened eyes as the larger man trapped him against the door. Fear had drained the color and heat from Irving's body.

" I seen how you looked at her. When the P30 device is implemented, she is to obey orders by the three of us. However, that privelege is NOT to be abused and used personally. While she may obey the two of you, ultimately she obeys ONLY me. Are we clear?" he warned. Irving shook his head eagerly, just wishing to put twenty feet between him and Wesker. Irving put his hands up in defeat, turning his head sideways.

"I hear ya, I hear ya! I ain't gonna touch her...I wouldn't dream of it!" he quickly said. Wesker stared for a while before nodding solemnly and opening the door for them to walk back in. To his relief, Jill hadn't done anything to Excella, and Excella seemed content staying quiet and not starting anything with Jill. Perhaps she rememmbered the broken nose the blonde had given her by underestimating her strength. Irving hurriedly went to Excella's side and excused himself for the rest of the day. There were no complaints as he strode out, relieved to get away from the one in black.

"Jill. Up. I shall take you back to the room," he said. Jill didn't abide right away, and only did so after a few seconds. Excella watched as the other female behaved like a robot and stood in a swift, fluid movement. Whatever Wesker was doing with her, Excella could swear she saw more and more of the woman's soul diminishing in her eyes. They were still blue but they lost that sheen, that light most people had. They were slightly dulled, and gave the impression of someone who was broken in like a horse. Excella smiled and let Wesker leave with his 'pet' to go put up so he could attend to his business.

The two walked down the hallway back to her cell. An unsettling feeling was in Jill's stomach as she remembered that greasy looking fool in that cheap, Miami Vice like suit. It was apparent there would be times she would have to work with Ricardo Irving. If she was under the influence of the P30 when she did, to ensure her servitude, would that man be sick and perverted enough to force her to do anything? Like Wesker had...? No. Wesker had made it clear if they abused the use of the P30 and her, there'd be repercussions. Jill gathered enough courage to speak out, hoping it would not earn her any beatings or a needle in her neck.

"Wesker?" she asked, keeping her gaze to the floor so she would not infuriate herself. She walked beside him, still mulling over everything.

"Yes?" he replied.

"...I know you warned them not to abuse me while I am on missions with them, but if you put me under that P30...how can I control myself if that disgusting friend of yours tries to do anything...sexual to me?"

"Because, Jill. I had a chat with him on that very subject and informed him he is to never dare to try that. Don't think his leering at you escaped my notice," he said. "Besides. As I have told you. You follow primarily only MY orders. Those conflict with them. You will NOT participate in such acts. If so, you have permission to CONTAIN him and bring him in to me," he said further. Jill glanced to Wesker as they walked the long, winding hallways. Was that...Wesker's form of protection? With those sunglasses, it was hard to read his features. With such heady threats and warnings from Wesker, she felt slightly better. One person taknig advantage of her was enough. At that thought, she cast a hardened look to Wesker. Mind altering drugs or not, nothing affected her memory...and that was something she would never soon forget.

Jill walked into her room, and turned to see Wesker standing in the doorway. No step was taken to enter the room and she took this as a sign he was just making sure she went into the room while he left for businss. Wesker gave her a nod and closed the door. A series of beeps and red light indicated she was now locked in. Jill sat down on the carpeted floor, hugging her knees and wondering what was to become of her. After so long, Chris wouldn't be coming, would he? Silent tears escaped the inner corners of her eyes as she tried to recollect herself. She was still wondering if she should just accept her fate lying down. Fighting him so far had gotten her nowhere. It gotten her beat. A friend killed, her own hand forced to do the shameful act. Raped..._but it wasn't rape, was it? Maybe at first, but in the end you consented, _her mind chided. Jill growled at her other, darker half. It was rape. It was against my will. _Why would I ever want anything of that nature from that bastard? _She tried to reason. _But you wanted more. Even after the drug wore off...you consented to everything else. Is it as bad as you think it is? _

"No...what the hell is he doing to me?" she sobbed softly to herself. Even now, he had planted seeds of doubt against herself.


	27. Downward Towards Insanity

Coming up a bit short. And it is another mature content chapter...though not as...descriptive as the last. I emitted a few choice words to make it more...well, not as trashy? Eh, take it as you will. But yes, struggling to write chapters. I may come to a head soon and speed it up a bit...And draw this to a close about at 31 or 32 chapters. Need a drive and reason to finish! I am almost there! So enjoy this new chapter, and let me know thoughts. Again, this won't be some romantic, change-of-heart, kind of story. Don't expect it.

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Chapter 27: Downward Towards Insanity

**[7:00 p.m.]**

Everything had been a blur. It had only been a mere hour since Wesker let her alone in her own hell. Jill tried to rest and found it futile. Trying to make something of the small provisions given failed. With her mind torn into many directions, the soup on the stove had boiled away and was burnt. The psychological warfare Wesker was bestowing upon her was certainly working and breaking her. Every day she felt her resolve slip, her sanity take a dive and finding herself conceding to submission. This was not normally her nature. Making matters worse was when he showed up while she was still trying to keep her fragmented self together. He was the image of a demon, clad in all black standing there staring at her. She was surrounded by demons...that even her dreams became possessed by them. The only place she could escape to, and now they dominated it. Lack of sustenance and mental fatigue left her unaware of his actions. She didn't notice the needle he had in hand until it was too late, and she felt it's cold bite in her neck.

It started like before. Being ordered to strip to her nakedness, and commanded to do as he wanted. She didn't want to do this again. She didn't want to suffer that kind of shame again. Why did he do this to her? More and more she spent time with him, she thought him less than human, and more of a monster or animal. He only had human form. What she hated more was how her body responded. While her mind and conscience knew everything about this was wrong, the body's nervous system didn't have emotions or reason. All it did was send electrical impulses to her brain and informed it how good the touches felt. With the drug numbing her control and harnessing her initial responses, the only thing that did respond was nerves and touch. No circle in hell could be worse than this. She found herself on her own bed, being dominated by this beast of a man. She swore the moment she felt she could control herself fully, she would retaliate and find a way out of here. Once it's hold did begin to waiver, she found like last time, she could not. The man knew every one of her special erogenous zones, and timed everything so perfectly, she could not deny how good it felt. It was a personal sin she could not be forgiven for.

As the hours slipped by, she responded willfully and took everything he gave. Both knew well by now the drug wore off and this was all consensual. Was this the closest thing she was going to get that was humanly familiar? These sexual encounters with her worst enemy? The way he grabbed her, held her and drove himself into her expressed silent facts. Jill thought about it as she moaned and tightened to his invading force. Wesker was a possessive man. He threatened Irving. He expressed concern when he caught Irving even looking at her lewdly. The way he grasped at her and kept her tight to him also expressed this possessiveness. She was his. Perhaps not in the romantic sense, but more of property. Like a selfish child who did not want to share his favorite toy with the others.

"Scream for me," he whispered at her ear as he began to use his enhanced strength to impale her. It earned the screams he wanted and gave Jill a climax she would never soon forget.

The hours gone by so quickly, that Jill did not realize a whole afternoon slipped by. Laying on the bed exhausted, shaking and unable to control the twitching of her body, she closed her eyes and tried to stifle the crying. He was right there beside her trying to catch his breath while she felt that crack in her sanity widen and steepen. did he have an idea what he was doing to her? Or was it that was what he wanted? To see her break and crumble? She rolled onto her stomach, hiding her shamed face in her pillow and not daring to look at him. She didn't know if she could, and as Wesker stared at her, he knew how to put the icing on the cake of this little turbulent situation.

He laid next to her and placed an arm around her, pulling her against his body and nuzzling into her hair. He heard her inhale sharply and freeze instantly. It indeed was a rarity for him to show affection, thus the reason he did. The more he could disturb her mentally, and crack her, the happier he was. Jill would expect him to leave after having sex, thinking of her no more until he decided on another visit. If he were to shake the foundation of her beliefs about him, and send her into endless confusion until she went mad, that would be good enough. Though he was saving the final point for another time. He couldn't completely break her yet until he ordered her to kill Chris Redfield.

" I could never meet a woman who could satisfy me, Jill," he lied. Wesker in truth could never be satisfied with anything. It was simply how he was.

" You're disgusting," she muffled into the pillow.

" Wouldn't that in theory too, make you disgusting? Since this second time you still gave in to carnal pleasure?" he asked, holdng her a little tighter so she couldn't break free to try and attack him.

" No! I'm nothing like you," she gritted, still keeping her face hidden in her pillow.

" ...Hn, perhaps when it comes to my vision, yes. You are nothing like me...but deep down, everyone of us has that carnal urge to procreate, or indulge in physical pleasures. Even I cannot escape that calling," he lied again. He had effectively avoided sexual encounters since he was infected. He could control those urges...and the only reason he decided to aim them at Jill now, was part of a failsafe plan he constructed.

"Are you admitting you're still human?" she asked darkly.

Wesker didn't like that question. He was working hard to enhance the human race and get rid of the genetically unacceptable. He was playing God. No-he WAS god. Still though, he was part of that advanced race of human beings, so in theory, he was.

" I never said I was not...I am simply an enhanced kind of human," he answered finally after mulling it over.

"...Never pegged you the kind for pillow talk," she said, very slightly revealing part of her face to him. There it was. This was Jill letting her guard down and showing an inkling of trust unto him. He got his foot in the door, now...he only needed to push it open more.

"All you know about me, is based on your beliefs. Even in S.T.A.R.S., I never revealed anything personal..."

"S.T.A.R.S..." she said softly and turned away. Wesker frowned, realizing he said something wrong. Reminding her of the past possibly wasn't the best idea, so now he had to work again to get her to reveal herself.

"What of it?"

"Nothing."

"There is something...you said it," he reminded. Silence fell between them as Jill thought about how foolish she was to ever like him in the past or show him any respect as her captain. Come to think of it, no one ever had known anything about him. Captains normally introduced themselves, and told them where they came from or the training they had. Chris had been in the Air Force for example. Rebecca was their medic because of how intelligent she was and how much she knew, and even told them where she studied. Wesker had let on to nothing personal. She should have spotted that as odd, or suspicious. why didn't she? Was she that enamoured back then? Stupid...

" I used to respect you back then," she admitted. It made the air really uncomfortable for her, and even him. He had a feeling this was going to be followed by what she thought about him back then, then followed up with a slew of insults and barbed words. The while he waited, nothing was said, much to his expectations. A small desire stirred to ask her why she did, but he quickly quashed the idea and remained silent.

" You wash up...and I'll take my leave," Wesker stated. Jill nodded slowly, and he took this as a sign that their little personal relations situation was done for the day. They were not involved as others would probably take this. Again, the sexual relations with Jill was to serve a purpose later on. He glanced back to see one eye resting on him as he dressed to leave. The woman didn't move, still full of shame of giving in and being weak. If there was a next time, she would fight back. She vowed it. He couldn't keep doing this to her and tearing her sanity apart.

Once Wesker dressed and left, she slowly slid out of bed and grabbed the sheets to wrap herself in. Weary feet carried her to her disarrayed kitchen. She stood there, looking for cutlery. It appeared knives were taken out, probably as a precaution. She grabbed the next best thing, a fork. She stared at the silver utensil for a while before slowly placing her hand on the counter, palm up. The wrist was exposed and vulnerable, as she hovered the fork over it. If she stabbed into the wrist and tore at it, surely she would severe one of the main arteries or veins...and end this seemingly neverending nightmare. Moments passed and her hand shook but she could not bring herself to do that simplistic motion to stab at herself. Frustration reigned as she cast the fork across the kitchen and screamed. Her pride was still too strong to give in to such a shameful, cowardly act...but it was damaged enough that she felt her mental stability's core eroding and her own self becoming unstable and beyond repair. She had no choice, no exit from this horror and it was pushing her to the limits of insanity.


	28. Self Reflections

Chapter 28: Self Reflections

[11:00 pm]

_It is rewarding to see my 'program' beginning to have the desired effect on Jill. Slowly, I can see her slipping into confusion and insanity with each visit. The sparkle of life is slowly fading from her eyes, dulling out and becoming hopeless. The destruction I seen in her room is proof that she is getting fed up. Reality has finally begun to seep into her understanding that Chris is never coming for her...and that she is never going to taste freedom again. When I had arrived at her room to see the destruction she done to it, I realized how vulnerable she was in that very moment, how far down she fallen from grace...and I aimed to drive the peg further. _

_One thing I cannot lie about, is the sense of sexual gratification I receive from our encounters, more so from the fact I prove to her how much power I have over her that she never realized. It does intrigue me however, why Jill does not try harming me when the P30 wears off. While it suits the plan nicely and I had calculated the reaction, part of me always believed her stubbornness would arise and empower her to fight back...and tonight, she had confessed a former...respect for me, for when were in S.T.A.R.S.. This could present an complication if the issue isn't addressed quickly...but I will still need to bring her to the edge of fondness for me, to act as her savior.  
The plan is simple. Break her down, until she sees me as her only hope and source of affection, a forcefully induced Stockholm Syndrome. Then...break her down all over again. For taking away my only chance of killing Chris once and for all, she will pay, and after she is broken completely, she will be my tool to achieve my revenge against Chris Redfield. _

The leather journal was shut and placed in a drawer of the nightstand. Wesker rubbed his eyes and slipped into the covers of his bed, hands behind his head as he let his mind wander a bit more. Everything seemed to be going according to plan. The only snag was he could not find a way to be nice to Jill to lull her into a false sense of security. Kindness would only confuse her and probably make her more defensive. Still...if he worked on it, he could succeed. The smallest of implements was the rare affection he allowed in bed, and threatening Ricardo if he ever touched Jill. Other factors were giving Jill her own personal space, something slightly similar to a normal apartment or dwelling. Next time he might try dealing with her without the P30 shot, to test how she had developed. He been too dependent on it to control Jill. Now he had to let her be herself, and assert his power over her even without the mind controlling drug.

_Is it possible I have lost my sanity? I would have never let anyone violate me so deeply as he had. I still find it strange that after everything that had happened between the three of us, he would find any remote feeling of attraction to me, sexually or otherwise. I hate to admit it, but Wesker isn't stupid. He knows I am always at Chris' side and in agreement that he and his terrorist plans should be stopped. Does he do this out of his own self- gratification as a man, or is it something else he gets from tricking me?  
I come to think about the past, and it seems, we are the only ones chasing him. The fights we engage in, me and Chris always start them. Wesker has never once tried to track us down to put a stop to us. He lays low, and hopes we don't find him, I suppose. So is it...me and Chris who are obsessed with his downfall rather than Wesker being obsessed with our downfall? Surely he will take it if it's in front of him...  
My main concern is why I cannot seem to regain my senses when the P30 wears off. There is no drug to control me to his whim yet...I participate willingly. By the time the drug wears off, I actually feel...repusively good, and don't want him to stop. Years ago it may not have been wrong, but now...it seems so unethical. Am I really going insane? Maybe it's just that I know no matter what I do, he will overpower me in the end...if I retaliate, he will beat me into the ground. Isn't it better then to bear shame and find some sense of enjoyment with him, rather than having my bones broken and my muscles bruised? Is my pride worth that much pain? _

Jill felt she was weak and a coward. Under circumstances, she should have fought back...but given her knowledge of Wesker's abilities, it would have been futile. She would not have won a one on one battle with him and would have only ended up incapacitated. Nothing would have been achieved...but was there anything being achieved now by letting Wesker have his way with her? Was there any gain to her advantage other than sating basic instinctual desires? No. There was no winning for Jill on either side of the coin. Her only option was to end her life before Wesker could put more shame to her name. She had tried it and found she couldn't even gather the strength to harm herself. A hope still was afloat she would see Chris again, and she clung desperately to that buoy in the sea of darkness she was lost in...but her grip on it was slipping. Hope was diminishing, and she could not imagine hell being any worse than this.

**[August 3rd, 2008. 11: 00 A.M. ]**

Sleep had eluded Jill for the majority of the night. Various times she woke and had to force herself back to sleep. When she finally decided to get up from bed, she saw the time on the clock and frowned. Normally by now, she would have been drug out and ordered to follow Wesker around like a dog. While it was nice to have a break from those terrorists, it made her worry they may be planning something for her. Trying to push her worries away, she got up and decided to clean up the kitchen she wrecked yesterday. The utensils, pots and pans were picked up and washed, the broken dishes swept up and thrown into the garbage, and the wasted food along with it. Counters were wiped down and by time she was done, the kitchen looked sparkling clean. The time it took to clean it had made her forget where she was, and she had found a sliver of serenity while fretting over the filth. With that menial job done, she decided a shower was in order.

The hot water felt good on her abused skin. Feeling the water and invisioning it was washing away the shame of last night helped her feel better. the shampoo was slowly massaged into her hair as she took as much time as she wanted. She wanted to make sure every inch of her body was washed of his touch. The shampoo and soap could only do so much though. Even after washing, she could still feel his rough hands as it had held and caressed her body, how they had probed the inside of her and aroused her. Funny how she always thought back to the past when she copulated with that horrid monster. Back then, she imagined a man who had looked that good, was that intelligent and cool, knew exactly what he was doing in bed. She had dated, and even dated one or two men after the mansion incident before cavin in to Chris' persistence, and none had been able to make her feel so physically good as Wesker had.  
She frowned and wondered if it was so bad to think that. No one could know her thoughts, but it still made her feel selfish and bad for thinking of praising Wesker in any way, shape or form. He wasn't deserving of it after all the atrocities he committed. Still, this was the most human she seen him. While he was highly dominant and never allowed her to take precedence over him, he still seemed to go out of his way to make sure she felt good. Jill ran her hands slowly over her body as she daydreamed about it, something in the corner of her eye grabbing her attention. Black...  
She looked up and thought she saw him standing there watching her. Jill slipped about in the shower and pressed herself to the tiled wall, eyes wide and her heart beating hard against her rib cage. When she blinked, the sihlouette was gone. Was he...in her room? Or was she simply hallucinating now from that drug he kept giving her? All moisture was gone from her mouth as she tried to calm herself, battling to calm her heart. She was doing anything embarrassing to be caught, but even for a moment, she felt he might have been able to see into her mind and read them.  
Jill hastened her shower and wrapped a towel around her body. Dripping wet, she peeked outside the bathroom door. Azure eyes looked everywhere for him, but only found that no other living soul was in the room. Everything happening to her was taking its toll on her sanity, to the point it was pushing her to paranoia. Jill then spotted something on the bed that hadn't been there when she woke up. A white, cardboard box. Initial thoughts were to be wary of the box until she rationalized it couldn't be dangerous. Wesker had told her before she was useful, so there was no need to bring her harm.  
She opened the lid to the box and was puzzled by the find. There were shirts, pants, socks, undergarments and even a pair of comfy looking tennis shoes. While the gifts could be seen as meager, it was proof he snuck in to deliever it...and stole a peek of her. _So he does have a little perverted streak in him. Who would have thought..._Jill gave a very faint smile and looked over the clothing. After lifting two shirts, she found a note hidden inside. She wa sa little suspicious now. Why was he being so nice for? She unfolded the piece of lined paper to read it.

_Jill-_

_I thought perhaps you would appreciate spare clothing, as wearing the battlesuit continuously will be unsanitary and uncomfortable. While under orders, you will wear your battlesuit, but while you are not in use, you are allowed to stay in your room and wear whatever you desire. _

It was not exactly a touching letter, but to think Wesker thought of her comfort on his own time was endearing. Yet it only served to steepen her initial suspicion. Why all the generosity? It was hardly believable he was doing this out of 'the kindness of his heart'. Wesker could be considerate, but as far as Jill was concerned, he had no heart. After the first time, he had said because he could. Was she more like a toy or pet to him? That, she could believe.

Wesker was on his way to an intelligence briefing. Apparently they had caught the eye of the BSAA. Not many were investigating just yet, but they were snooping too close for Wesker's comfort. They would have to be taken care of sooner or later, but for now, he figured to let them sniff about as they desired. Their tracks were covered for the most part. Kijuju was slotted to be a testing bed soon enough, once the P30 device was finished for Jill. She would carry out the plague on her own hands. The BSAA probably were investigasting the marshlands which have been infected for a bit now. Before he had left for the briefing, he had decided if he was going to appeal to Jill's trust. To start with, he had Irving go out and buy a small wardrobe for Jill, consisting mostly of plain colored shirts, pants and other articles. Given Jill's background and their history, he predicted she would see this as bribery and in their next visit, may demand what it is he wants of her.

"Something wrong, Albert?" Excella cooed. Wesker glanced to the amourous woman and shook his head.

"Nothing," he responded. Irving was waiting with him and a few other normal looking civilians. These were in fact his informants which held the valuable information on the snooping dogs. All of them walked into the meeting room and took seats, Wesker at the head. He sat back in the seat and gazed at the four. Mental notes were taken on everything said, but his mind was not fully focused on the discussion at hand. Part was on the vengeful plan he had in store for Chris, and Jill. So far, everything was going well and he was content with that.

"Well then you two, keep up the excellent work...get in contact with Ricardo if any more information comes up. Scope them out, find a way to approach them and get intelligence on what they are looking for...if I am right, they may set up a ploy to buy bio weapons, only to flush out the reason behind the incident in the marshlands. If that is true, Ricardo, you will reveal yourself and put it out you will do that...then we will set them up and ambush them. I would like the meeting in Kijuju, but only after we begin our second plan there," Wesker said, being elusive in front of the informants. "Dismissed."


	29. Only in the World We Create Here

Another chapter! 2,200 words...a bit short, but the scene should be worth it. A final crack into Jill's stubborn resolve. The next chapter may be a songfic, so beware. I think I picked a perfect song for them thanks to a friend. So without further ado, here is the next chapter! Please review, let me know what you think. I need to sleep. =.= work tomorrow. And be lucky if I get 6 hours at this point. Later!

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Chapter 29: Only in the World We Create Here

**[ 7:00 PM]**

The day had dragged. Insufficient reports still were coming in, with no news of any progress. It seemed they might have reached a stalemate. There was hope, as they were studying the adverse effects Uroboros had on subjects. The rate at which the virus infected was much too quick, and he wondered if putting them in cryogenic sleep would help as it did with Alexia Ashford. That would take much too long though and such effort that required more manpower than he had.  
Wesker sat at the table, fingers drumming against the glass as he read over the reports. It was putting him in a foul mood. the papers were pushed away as he could guess what the rest would have entailed. All day he been in the labs, trying to better the virus' introduction to the human body. Still it proved fruitless. Jill's antibodies did make it last longer, and prevented the virus from instantly killing its victim like before...but it was not the adhesive he needed to make the virus stick and adapt. He needed stress relief...

Jill was in her room. No one had come for her. Wesker didn't visit, or come calling. She put on a pair of skinny blue jeans and white top. It wasn't exactly her taste but it somehow made her feel more...normal. No battlesuits. No hospital gowns. The perfectly common attire reminded her that there was another world up there, one she had been trying to defend. Clothing also reminded her of pleasures, for instance, going to the mall and clothes shopping, testing various perfumes, trying different candy, listening to music and tasting delicious, traditionally greasy McDonald's or Burger King. It made her nostalgic thinking of what a normal life used to be like, and angry at what Wesker took away from her.

As she was straightening her bed, she heard a beep at the door, a beep she had grown accustomed to. Wesker entered and she felt ice go up her spine. This man. Why did he like to torture her so much? Why was he such a sadist? At this point, was there any reason to fight back? Anytime she did, it only caused pain.

"Why are you here?" she asked angrily. Wesker only greeted her with a smile, walking slowly towards her. This made the woman nervous. The behavior he was displaying was exactly the same when he attacked her and pumped her with the P30. Jill backed away, keeping her eyes up front and on him at all times.

"Is that any way to greet someone who went out of their way, and busy schedule, to retrieve such luxuries for your comfort? It's quite rude," Wesker drawled as he continued to close the gap between them. With each step, her heartrate increased.  
Wesker mulled over his thoughts. It was true he had a hard time before not caving into such desires that was base and instinctual. The fondness he felt for her was just as that, a simplistic fondness. It was fostered from the lack of abiding by those instincts, and using her to achieve other gains. Their history together may have played a role...as he looked back on it, he never really held her for blame for the mishaps in his plans; only Chris. It was only until this last incursion that he held her name solely responsible. And again...he did wish he knew a way of converting her to his idealistic plans. While Excella was intelligent...she lacked true survival skills and combat knowledge. Jill possessed it, and she didn't have a bad head on her shoulders either. It was only a plus he found her attractive, highlighted only by the attributes he secretly praised. It was confusing, and conflicting, feelings he harbored for her but always in the end, business prevailed above all else. It was only by luck that he found a way to utilize the attraction for a gain later on down the road.

" Yes, for someone who keeps drugging me and using my body against me, you sick fuck," she insulted. Wesker tsked at her word choice and tone of voice.

" I do not have it on me," he lied, fingers spread and showing he had no needle hidden in his hands. There were some in his inner coat pocket, but he only carried it in case it was an emergency and he wanted a fast way of subduing her. For now, he wanted to work with her as Jill. Jill's narrowed eyes were proof she still didn't trust him. the long coat was shrugged off and thrown on the back of the chair.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she demanded.

Wesker grinned at her. There was so many avenues to take to pacify that question. A large portion would be all lies, considering he was a master at them. He had worked many lies over Excella, flattering her, playing to her vain ego to get her to comply to his plans, and ensure more power and wealth to her.

" I remember you made a confession to me in bed last night," he said, stopping only a foot away from her. Her back was rigid as she stood against the wall, alert and on the defensive. Jill thought about it and averted her eyes sharply, yet keeping him in her periphreal vision.

" That you used to respect me," he reminded. No answer came from Jill as he continued. " My confession is, I have always found you attractive...desirable. You think it is merely chance or luck that I would always knock you to the side while I went after Chris?"

Jill glanced to him a moment, and thought about it. She had found it odd, and had reflected on that a few times, but could draw no solid conclusion why, and had only theories. Was he going to provide a real reason behind that?

" I could never figure out an answer that made sense," she admitted. Wesker approached her at a slow pace, eying her in case she retaliated. To his surprise, her curiosity kept her rooted and stole her desire to try and rebel against him. Not many knew much about Wesker personally, even herself and Chris. The chance to understand his reasonings freely was highly tempting. The only issue was discerning if he was lying.

" I always found you desirable...attractive...and I wish there was a way to adapt you to this virus...to make you mine," he admitted. Wesker was careful to change the pitch of his voice to try and make himself believable. He lowered his head and cast his eyes to the floor, trying to show a bit of embarrassment, or embitterment. To lie, one had to make the body language match the words. Now he just had to wait for her to rise to the bait and take it.

"Wesker...I could never be. And you know that! After everything..." she said, shock evident in her tone. This was the time to take advantage, while her mind was clouted with confusion and scrambling to comprehend what he just confessed. He ripped the sunglasses from his face and cast them to the floor, stepping in and putting two hands on the wall, pinning her. He looked straight into her eyes, the irises glowing softly.

" Yes. Our history is rather...complicated. I can never expect you to understand why I labor so hard for this reform and enhancement of humanity. It still does not stop me from wishing you would though," he said, leaning in. It would seem he captured her attention and she was trying to grow accustomed to the closure. He leaned his head forward, nuzzling the side of her head. She was stunned, rendering her immobile as she was working to understand this. It was sudden and definitely out of character...for Jill, she could only see this as a ploy to divert her attention from something.

"Only in the world we create here...in this room, where my business doesn't matter, where your mission doesn't matter...can something as taboo as this sustain a chance, and be kept secret...if you had any admiration for me in the past or any desire, you ought to take advantage of my offer...and live them out. This chance may never come again for us in you refuse now, " he pressed.

Jill knew there was something devilish hidden behind this offer, to the effect of a Faustian deal. Still...he did smell good. Old, fond daydreams resurfaced and the fresher memories of his experience in bed made her yearn. He also was physically attractive, even at his age. Feeling his skin against hers made her shake, still unsure if she should rebel hard against this temptation, or give in. Giving in would grant her guilty pleasure...rebelling only promised pain and punishment. If only Chris was here to save her. God, where was he?

"I know you like it, Jill. You cannot lie about it...but I want you to consent on your own accord. No drugs. No force. Just your own words, your own acknowledgement," he informed. the low growl and accent of his voice at her ear was still harder to resist. Alone, behind closed doors, and away from the icons of Umbrella, bio-weapons, BSAA, terrorism...did she begin to see him as someone relatively...human. With needs, and desires, same and common as billions of others. Jill also knew he was not the sort to go boasting about the things that went on in these rooms. If that Excella ever got wind of it, it would decimate all his plans he been slaving away to achieve. If it was only their secret...and this was the only place where they could shed their morality, and enjoy baser pleasures, without judging one another...was it so bad? He was the only one who ever was company anymore...

" Wesker...I...I can't...if I do, it feels like I am...like I'm...losing a sense of myself...a major component of myself. It was to hunt you with Chris...to exact justice on you...if I don't..."

"You will always be Jill Valentine. What your missions are, your affiliations...that does not make you who you are," he smoothly said. His voice was like silk and she feared she would give in willingly. A slight blush had developed on her cheeks and she was clenching her teeth urging herself to not give in to the devil's temptation. No one else would know...but she would, and would forever feel ashamed of it.

"Stop denying what we both know..." he goaded. The weight of his temptation was pulling her down, forcing her to lose her grip on her resolve. Whaatever was making him want her so much had eluded her. Trembling fingers reached out and curled into his shirt sleeve, the fingers curling into a fist on the fabric.

"Wesker...I...I hate you...I know you've employed psychological warfare on me...and I can't find a way to avoid it..."

" Come with me," he murmured at her ear. Jill remembered the dreams she had of him, always saying that. Come with him. Were those dreams a premonition? Was she supposed to? Should she abide by the dreams? When he stepped in closer, her hair brushing against his chest, she sighed and gave in. Giving in was the only option...

**[7:40 P.M]**  
"Hey doll! I finally got to work on perfecting the Las Plagas...here," Ricardo said, showing Excella the reports. The woman's carfully manicured hands flipped through the papers, noting the remarkable improvement. She knew Albert would be glad to hear about this; perhaps the only good news he had laid eyes on in a while. A smile came ot her glossed lips as sparkling eyes lifted to Ricardo.

"Very good! I am sure Albert will love to see this," she said with excitement. Ricardo sat down, feeling pretty good about himself. Not to mention, safe from Wesker's wrath.

"I will give him a call and set up a meeting for him to go over it," she said. She took the sleek phone out and pushed a few numbers. A dial tone rang over the line for a while before going to voicemail. Excella frowned. Normally Albert picked up without fail. She hung up, and tried again but only got the same result. Excella thought nothing of it. He could have been in the labs working directly on Uroboros himself. Wesker was a creature of habit, and very meticulous. If he felt someone was not doing an adequate job, he would step in to make sure it gets done.

"Albert! Ricardo has good news! Let's all have a meeting in the morning and discuss it in the meeting room. Ciao!" she hung up and sat back in the seat. Ricardo shrugged, seeing no reason to hang around.

"I will take my leave then! Get some rest, doll," he said and winked. He left Excella by herself. She tapped her polished nails on the table and thought best to take Ricardo's advice. Some rest would do her a world of good. Lately she hadn't been getting the sleep she needed due to the high demands this project had. Looking to her gaudy watch, she figured if she could get into bed by eight, she could get a decent nine hours in and be refreshed for the meeting tomorrow. Wesker was a punctual man, so she didn't have to worry he would call her back with a time to meet. She would never expect him to be anywhere else than the labs, and didn't even search for him as she grabbed her purse and left to go to her own quarters.


	30. Beauty From Pain

A bit short...and probably my last soft smut chapter. This is the turning point, so yes, enjoy! The song...was hard to put together, yet when you listen to it, I can see Jill thinking the lyrics as they are sung. So haven't done this in a while...disclaimer: I do NOT own Resident Evil or characters...and I do NOT own the song "Beauty from Pain" by Super Chicks.

Anyway, enjoy, and let me know what you think. This chapter I am somewhat...unsatisfied with, it irks me, but I'll let the reviewers decide. And by thw way, it's more Jill's point of view...so things Wesker says or does...don't take it as him having a change of heart. We all know he won't.

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Chapter 30: Beauty From Pain

_The lights go out all around me,  
One last candle to keep out the night,_

The main lights of the room were turned off, the only source being from a small nightstand lamp with a red shade. The red-orange light glowed softly, bathing her in the warm colors. As the man approached, his eyes glowing the same color from behind those smoky lenses, and Jill couldn't help but shiver. Darkness rested just on the outside of the bed, threatening to cave in on her if that small lamp was turned off and engulf her completely. As he got on the bed with her, blocking the soft light, a different kind of darkness swallowed her, a darkness that resided only in her head.

_And then the darkness surrounds me,  
I knew I'm alive, but it feels like I've died, _

She only lived in the darkness Wesker kept her shrouded in. These dimly lit rooms, those bare walled cells and sickenly white hospital rooms. While she was physically alive, the treatment over the years had deadened her and twisted her into something else. With no contact with anyone else but Wesker, she was conditioned against all her morals to seek for some kind of human interaction from him. As her hands reached slowly for his face to remove his sunglasses, her fingers could not feel the metal under its skin.

_And all that's left,  
Is to accept that it's over,  
My dreams ran like sand through the fists that I made..._

There was only one option for her. To accept that there was no rescue and give in to his every demand. That all her granduer plans of escaping, of Chris coming to her aid would never come true. She slipped her hands from his face and down to his throat, to his chest and felt the monster's heartbeat. She settled her hands there a moment as her thoughts raced. She held so tightly to her dreams that Chris would find her that she never truly accepted the reality of her situation. How could Chris ever find out she was on another continent than from where they had been searching for Wesker?  
She felt his face lowering and nuzzling her throat, causing her to sharply intake air as her eyes closed. Could she trick herself into believing this was only a really bad dream?

_I try to keep warm,  
But I just grow colder..._

Despite their body's warmth from their own temperatures, and closure, Jill still felt chills...the more she drew herself to him to seek warmth, the more she felt her skin crawl and icy shivers race through her spine. Wesker seemed to have taken this as eagerness. Hands ran up her sides, then her arms, bending them back slowly and pinning them into the pillows. Jill felt her lips seized by his, something akin to electric racing down her now and into her lower abdomen. She simply gave in, knowing it futile to try resisting anymore.

_I feel like I'm slipping away..._

Jill couldn't hold on to her dreams and rational thoughts of morality any longer. Everything she knew felt like a distant memory, a memory she couldn't believe was hers. Whatever they were, she was letting them go and flinging herself into this new, dark, backwards world she emerged in ever since she cast herself out that window with Wesker. There was no other choice but to endure pain and torture, or death. This was only the lesser of the evils; to enjoy the slightest attention paid to her.

_After all this has passed,  
I still will remain,  
After I've cried my last,  
There will be beauty from pain, _

Jill somehow knew all of this would pass at some time. Though her dreams of Chris rescuing her were merely dreams, a tiny part of her couldn't help but childishly pray for rescue from anywhere. She knew she if she just survived, she would grow stronger after such an ordeal. She was too stubborn to go down easily after all...and after all the pain, the tears she would cry later, she could look back and be glad she managed to survive, despite the emotional and physical costs.

_Though it won't be today,  
Someday I'll hope again,  
And there'll be beauty from pain,  
You will bring beauty from the pain..._

Jill had no, solid hope for the moment. Everything Wesker had done was to quash any she harbored. Jill knew herself better though than Wesker could ever imagine. She was defeated for now...dead for now...but she would be revived. She would become herself once she was rescued...she looked to him and nuzzled into his blond locks, finding that even some pain could be beautiful, despite its origins.

_My whole world is the pain inside me,  
The best I can do is just get through the day,_

Jill's new life, the new world Wesker took her into, revolved around the most pain he coud inflict on her. There was pain Wesker directly and indirectly put her through to make her suffer for interfering with his battle. Taking her in and healing her, beating her for her insolence and forcing her hand to kill Grenik, the only friend she ever made while with him. Jill tried not to think of the things Wesker put her through, but they always plagued her at the worst of time. All she did was manage to get through the days and stay alive.

_My life before is only a memory,  
I wonder why God lets me walk through this place, _

All the memories of her old life were faded, and broken. Only Chris, Wesker and the Raccoon City incident were the most complete memories she kept. She couldn't go back to life again, not easily. Back to what it felt like to sit in a sunlit park, or to drink a hot cup of coffee, to listen to music on the radio, or know what was like to go shopping at the malls. She knew of these things but for the life of her, couldn't remember them well, or how she felt then. She felt him lying atop of her and her hazy eyes looked to him just as she felt Wesker enter her. She gasped for air, her eyes popping open, and her head thrown back into the pillow as she arched.  
What kind of God let demons like Wesker corrupt good natured people like herself? Why would God put her in this hell...?

_And though I can't understand why this happened,  
I know I will look back some day...  
And see how you brought beauty from ashes...  
And made me as gold purified through these flames,_

She couldn't understand why her plan hadn't worked. Why did this happen? Why was she under his mercy? They were supposed to have died during that fall, and yet that plan backfired. Still, she felt she could learn from this situation. She could look back on this and continue to see how strong she was to survive it, to endure and triumph over stacked odds. How from that failure she still rose from the ashes to be something more durable and better. That was something to admire...

_Here I am,  
At the end of me,  
Trying to hold,  
To what I can't see, _

Jill held to the man without looking at him, her face buried in his neck as he grew rambunctious with his movement. She gasped for air, nails biting at his skin. A leg wrapped around him in need, surprised how easily he could arouse her. While her mind tried to stay on other things, it began to focus on this. Was it so bad she enjoyed it? Could she accept this later in life? Or would this be her life from now on? A start of a new life? A new pain?

"Jill..." he murmured as he sat up on his knees, picking her hips up and holding them as he pistoned into her. With her hips in the air, and her upper back still on the bed, she cried out, feeling the tension mounting. She couldn't hold to him anymore, and her fingers instead grasping the sheets. How long was she going to have to live like this?

_I forgot how to hold,  
This night's been so long,  
I cling to your promise,  
There will be a dawn..._

As the hours sped by, and their sessions stretched on, there was a final moment where they finally could not go on any longer. Light bruises were appearing on her body from the prolonged union. Jill laid there shaking, staring at the ceiling and fighting back tears. Why did she allow this each time? Were the beatings really that worse than this? There was a heavier tax to this kind of physical pain and pleasure; emotional pain.

"Jill..." he said gently. Damn him. Was he trying to be kind? Why? What was he achieving? "I shall say this...soon...there will be a new dawn for humankind...just see things my way. Enter this new world with me," he offered.  
Jill stared for a moment thinking. She been emerged in darkness for so long, a prisoner here, she did hope for a new dawn...but a dawn where she could begin anew, away from this dark world she was trapped in. His promise of this new dawn couldn't free her. She knew it. Though...part of her, after all of this...was feeling fond of him and wished there was a way to convince him against his madness.

"Wesker...it's asking too much...to see things your way...I can't even begin to," she admitted. A strong hand grasped her jaw and turned her to face him. He leaned over her.

" You say I am destroying mankind, don't you?...but doesn't it destroy itself without my help? All the corrupt governments, the wars, crime syndicates...at least in my way, the Darwin theory is applied...and the strongest shall prevail," he reasoned. Jill could see it his way...until he mentioned his solution.

_Though it won't be today,  
Someday I'll hope again,  
And there'll be beauty from pain,  
You will bring beauty from the pain..._

Jill didn't try to argue him. That only led to trouble. She only nodded and laid there, watching him as he watched her. She still did not get why he visited her and copulated with her. She had always thought he hated her along with Chris. Still, she did suppose under everything he was, he was still a man, and men had urges just as women did. Having sex again was...different. Not only because it wasn't Chris, but those thoughts were forced from her mind due to fear of everything going on around her.  
Someday, she would hope that there was something that would free her from him. Yet, for the time being...she didn't want to be apart from him for long. She sighed gently and scooted closer, closing her eyes and keeping close to his body's warmth before she drifted to sleep.


	31. Effects of Stockholm Syndrome

****I KNOW I have not updated in God knows HOW long. I know a new game came out (two actually) and everything, and yet I haven't played 6 (...part of me is still angry, Capcom). I am going to finish this as I envisioned, and people can take it from there. It won't be including any events that may take place in 6, so forgive me for those who may have played the game. In truth, this story is close to being finished, and I apologize to readers for the wait. Just needed some inspiration to finish this and I finally found some.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Resident Evil, Capcom does.

* * *

**[August 4th. 12:40 am]**

The room was still dim, with the orange-red light still cast across the room and originating from near the bed. Everything hurt from her copulation with Wesker. As she woke from her short slumber, she looked to her left. He was lying on his side, half covered by the disorderly sheets. Part of her wished this had been years ago, with no zombies, no T-virus, no Umbrella. As she slowly inched closer, she noticed small things about him. The stubble of his cheeks and jaw- no doubt from his lack of shaving due to being so busy, the darker circles developing under his eyes...how long his hair was when not slicked back. The words he once told her, had her thinking. No one had to know what went on in this room. Jill got closer and dared to lay against him, placing her head on his chest. She felt movement and was surprised to feel his strong arm hugging her to keep her in place. Somehow, this monster made her feel secure. If only for that moment.

Jill placed her arms close to her chest and folded into his hold. The offer he's given her was bothering her. To give up everything to be his, giving up everything she believed in and thought was right, and join him in his new world? He'd been right when he said that the world did destroy itself and was on the right road to self-exploding at some time. With all the wars, politics and corruption, maybe he was right and it was time to scour the world of that filth. No...not everything was bad though. Chris wasn't...and Chris had to be still searching for her. He wouldn't have given up, would he? But would Wesker win this time? This rare show of tenderness was indeed surprising...if only the T-virus hadn't existed, or bio-weapons...maybe Wesker would have been a normal man, a good captain and a serious interest.

"Something wrong?" came a low, masculine voice. He'd been awake...could be perceive she was troubled even in this state of sleepiness? When she looked up to him, those sinister red eyes were sleepily gazing down at her. Jill knew at this point, mentioning anything serious or debating his desires would agravate him...yet there was something she was curious about that she had to know.

"Wesker...Albert...you killed Spencer...I always wanted to know why...what happened with you and that old man?"

There was silence as he averted his gaze, appearing to debate whether or not to tell her anything.

" It's personal," he said defensively. Jill felt she could pry just a bit more. A hand lightly scratchedat his bare chest, wanting answers.

" You knew everything about me and Chris from when we were in S.T.A.R.S...but all I ever known about you...started from the Raccoon incident. What happened?"

Wesker saw this as an opportunity to play with her emotions again, and win sympathy.

" ...How about...Wesker may not even be my real last name?" he started, watching to gauge her reaction. Those thin brows drew in, confused at his statement.

" I don't understand..."

It felt odd to be telling his enemy this, but if she were to be just a tool, or join him, it may not be very detrimental. Besides, once he put the P30 control device on her, she wouldn't be allowed to freely discuss anything that happened or was said between them.

" Me and others were supposed to be part of one of Spencer's projects to create a superior race of humans. He said only I survived...the others didn't meet the criteria, or didn't adapt well...Wesker was the last name of the scientist in charge of the project, and our surveillance. We were all given his last name. So, everything I done, seemed to have been predetermined for me by Spencer. To know I was manufactured to be like this, and not of my own choice...it's infuriating. To know you never had control of your life from the very beginning..." he explained, his voice escalating a bit as he relived the memories of that decrepid man in that beeping wheelchair informing him that he'd been nothing more than a prototype...a piece on a large chess board. He gave her time to soak in the information.

It dawned on her he had to have been taken from birth, he had been honed his whole life to be a weapon or prodigy for Spencer's bioweapon program. What kind of life was that? None at all...no life at all. As he gazed at her, watching as she lowered her head to hide it against his chest, he thought he could sense pity.

" Don't dare pity me, Jill," he warned.

"No," she replied tersely, " I wasn't. I was trying to imagine how it would be to be in your position...not knowing things normal children get. Playing in parks, birthday parties with presents and cake, friends, games like tag, morning cartoons with sugary cereal...I can't imagine being brought up to be some subject of an experiment, or project..."

Wesker thought about it and did note she was right. Did he ever have a birthday cake and presents with friends surrounding him? Or get to play on monkey bars or swings in the local park? If he did, he certainly couldn't remember it. There had been no time for games and fun, not for him. Someone like Chris or Jil had normal lives, onces that they had been free to choose how it would go, whereas the control of his own life he thought he had had been an illusion.

"Now you know about me," he said, closing his eyes to sleep. It was awkward to speak about himself since he never did to anyone else but Birkin. There were no more words from Jill, but he felt her draw closer and stay against him. Did he manage to attract her? It wouldn't change the course of his plans, but it did make things simpler. She would listen to him.

" Thank you..." she murmured into his chest. It was an unusual time to be showing gratitude, but what was she thanking him for? He hadn't exactly been the best host towards her.

" For what..."

" ...Reluctantly for saving me...and sharing with me," she admitted. It was uncomfortable for him to be appreciated for anything like this. This was too mushy of a situation for him to deal with, since he never had to before. To receive this manner of affection from Jill Valentine was even more baffling. He supposed she was a rather sympathetic person...and he had only earned her animosity because she had never known anything about his earlier life.

"Welcome..." he murmured hastily, hoping she would leave the subject alone now and they could nap. Time was going by and sooner or later, he would need to get up and take care of business. It was a good possibility Excella was worrying. He'd sworn he heard his phone go off at least twice since coming to Jill's room, and more than likely, an intinerary of the project and its advances (or lack thereof). Though there was one thing Wesker did not think he could believe about himself: at this moment, he did not want to be bothered by business. Whether it was attributed to being worn out physically, or how comfortable he felt at the moment, he didn't know. This sordid world he created here with Jill was terrible distracting. It provided a chance for him to do all he wished outside work: release pent up energies, torture his enemy's partner into insanity, and solace from Excella.

"...You have to go, don't you?" she said in a monotone tone. Wesker looked down at her staring idly forward, hand hand rubbing at his chest in a mechanical way. A faint smirk curved into Wesker's lips.

"...You do not wish for me to?"

"...I...well. I don't expect you to stay. You're a busy man..." she responded, avoiding to admit her true answer that yes, she wished he could stay a bit as a form of comfort after consenting to these sexual acts. He was the only one she ever saw, only one she ever known for so long, and his presence though it instilled such rage for all he done, also gave a twisted form of comfort and familiarity. At the moment, Jill was calm but if he left, it let her stray to her own thoughts of self-hatred for being weak-willed, and shame for what she was consenting to.

"That isn't an answer...do you wish for me to stay with you?" he asked once more. Her jaw clenched a bit as she gave a silent nod, knowing he would hold this over her. Much to her shock though, Wesker bestowed more affection on her, pulling her closer and resting his head atop hers. Blue eyes widened in utter disbelief, a shiver racing through her whole nervous system. Was he...serious?

"...It is late, and both of us seem exhausted from such...affairs. I will stay with you," he said softly at her ear. Tears welled at the corners of Jill's eyes, a thick lump developing in her throat. Only one word repeated itself incessantly inside of her thoughts.

"Why..."

"...I told you...I always harbored an attraction to you. If this is the only form in which we can share the lingering fantasies of each other, then let it be. Don't question it. And let it happen," he said, his tone sleepy. Jill didn't know if this was one of his many lies to ensure she obeyed him, or to trick her into something more sinister he may have planned for her. It took her a while, but she slowly fell into a sleep against his warm, strong body, worry dissapating with the overcoming sleepiness.

* * *

**[7:40 am.]**

The two naked enemies laid in the bed through the night. A seemingly peaceful slumber had fell upon Jill, but Wesker laid there wide awake and watching her sleep. It was not in his character to let his guard down, and falling asleep now would make him vulnerable if Jill ever woke before him, incapacated him, then attempted to escape. Despite the transformation she had gone through while being held in his capitivity, it did not necessarily equate trust of her. For hours, Wesker laid still watching how her chest slowly puffed out and sunk, how her nostrils gently flared, and once in a while, nuzzle into a more comfortable position against him. For a while, Wesker did wonder if maybe she was doing the same as he, feinting sleep in order to keep an advantage over the other. However, the nature of her breathing and movement suggested she truly was in a deep sleep. _Foolish, really. Does she truly trust me enough to fall asleep around me, without worry of me harming her? I won't at the moment, but it still is quite reckless of her..._

Very slowly, Wesker removed himself from her, not wishing to disturb her sleep, dressed and left the room quietly. He went back to his own to shower, get fresh clothing and get back to the labs. Glancing at his phone, he saw a message left by Excella, as well as a few texts.

_Albert, did you get my message? I want to have a meeting this morning. Irving perfected the Las Plagas parasite! We should discuss it soon, and conduct a few trials. That device for Jill should be finished soon as well._

_Albert, it's five in the morning, and you're not in the labs. Be here soon so we can discuss the Las Plagas business. _

_Are you okay, Albert? You are normally awake by six._

It was like having a nagging wife really, than a business partner. Quick fingers typed up a reply.

_Get everyone ready for a meeting at 11 this morning. _

Perhaps today would be a good day. If it was true the Las Plagas parasite was perfected, and Jill's device would be soon as well, the plans for Kijuju would be ripe to employ at least by the beginning of December, or late November if lucky. Hopefully, the test trials for the new Plagas would by more successful to keep the Tricell company off his and Excella's back. Coupled with the test trials to be planned in Kijuju, a revolution that should be instigated to fuel violence. That should keep officials busy and distract the BSAA for a while for him to perfect Uroboros and weaponize it for his primary project.


	32. New Avenues of Research

I am stunned I got this chapter done so quickly. Two chapters in one night! I do apologize for not updating sooner, I needed some incentive to finish this and got some. I hope two chapters for you all to read will make you guys happy. I may add one more smut scene in here somewhere, before the ending, but I got to work out when and how. Right now, it's going to be leading up to plans for Kijuju, and everything else. Later on, I may do a time skip a few months to the events of Resident Evil 5 itself, and end this story. I hope you guys enjoy, and please, give me reviews of what you think. I know my writing may be rusty (haven't wirtten much due to the longest bout of writer's block I ever suffered), so I apologize. Thanks everyone!

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**[11:00 am]**

Excella and Irving sat at the table in the meeting room. Excella in a pristine beige colored ensemble, Ricardo in a dark blue suit and looking more worse for the wear. Wesker had walked in precisely at eleven, sitting down and preparing to discuss the issues at hand. Once the tall blonde settled into the head seat, he leaned on his arm and looked to Irving.

" Irving, Excella tells me you have good news to report."

The mousy, hassled looking man stood and nodded.

"I do...you see, we's perfected the Las Plagas. Some of the trials runs were hopeless, I admit...but this time! We's fixed the issue and are prepared to have it tried in another test bed. They had two successful infections of women this time, but would like to have it tried full scale. Tricell still wishes to explore the possibilities of it creating super soldiers, and it has that potential still yet...so. Whatcha think?" he finished lamely.

Wesker remained seated, a single finger tapping his cheek as he contemplated. He swiveled just a bit in the chair, turning to Excella.

"What of the P30 device I was shown a few days ago? Where are we with that?"

"The designer has fitted the prototype to a test subject and is going to have a full report by the end of the week. We shall know then how well it works, then he will be constructing another one for Jill, functional and fixed of any kinks that the prototype may present," Excella replied.

Wesker nodded again, falling silent once more as he thought. With Las Plagas ready, the device nearly ready, the only thing that remained was deciding when to initiate the plan for Kijuju.

"Things are on track for that. With those ends straightened out, I want focus on the Uroboros project and the production of its missiles. We can now only wait until that P30 device is complete before enacting our plans for Kijuju. Good work, Irving. Have the Las Plagas duplicated and readied for use. I want it on call for when the device is finished and fixed on Jill. Irving, you and her will be responsible with the infection of Kijuju once we initiate the plan. Clear?"

Irving nodded vigorously, eager to get out of the meeting room.

"Well then, meeting adjourned."

Irving left, with Excella seemingly busying herself fixing her suit. It was all show to stall and make sure there was time alone with Wesker to speak with him. Once he got up to leave too, she started at him, approaching him with those clicking heels and that glossy smile of hers.

" Albert, I am surprised you slept in so late."

"Tired from the research and formulating ideas which to tame the Uroboros enough to adapt into a person's DNA rather than turning them into a slimy pile of writhing tentacles...the antibodies in Jill's DNA seems to damper the effect, or at least, delay it, but we need something to balance it; adapt it seamlessly into the human DNA chain to enhance the sequences...without the nasty side effects..."

"I know, Albert...with the Las Plagas worry behind us now, we should focus more on that. Some of our leading researchers have made suggestions."

Wesker leaned against the wall, folding his arms as he stared at his Italian business partner.

"Oh?"

"...Well, Jill's antibodies are useful, yes...but perhaps a more resistant DNA genome would be helpful. Some suggestions have been to use chimpanzee DNA samples, as they are the closest thing to human DNA."

Wesker nearly scoffed at the idea, but the suggestion may have weight to it...if the animal's DNA had a stronger, more resistant gene to such viral infections like Uroboros. It made him think of the different strains of Ebola, with such strains like the Sudan and Zaire one being particularly lethal to human beings and monkeys. However, the Reston strain of Ebola, effected only monkeys and not humans. Maybe there could be a reverse case where a monkey's DNA could be more resistant or tolerable of the Uroboros virus than human's DNA? It might be worth amusing the idea for a bit, or at least letting the researchers look into the theory. At this point, he was ready to entertain anything to help the process.

"Tell the researchers they are permitted to research into this theory, if they think it may solve the Uroboros problem. I must go, Excella. Watch over the research for a moment, I need to go up and to town."

Excella was apprehensive about him leaving again, but agreed she would brief the researchers on investigating new theories. Wesker took a series of lifts to get back to the rooms where some of them stayed, including one of his own and Jill's. He strode down the hall and stopped in front of Jill's, swiping his card and entered, hestitating only a moment, not sure how angry Jill may be. As he entered though, he found her laying in the bed, staring at the wall, seeming quite out of focus. Wesker approached her cautiously, a hand behind his back.

"Jill, I need you to dress," he said gently, trying not to rouse the anger that surely was in her. Blue eyes shifted toward him slowly,

"Now, Jill," he ordered, his voice now turning cold and firm.

Jill knew the consequences of disobeying, and after a night like they had, and memories of what happened when she did resist, she decided it best to dress as instructed. The bluish battlesuit was put on, zipped up and the gun holsters strapped on properly. However, the guns were not provided to her (nor allowed to stay in the room with her for obvious reasons). Blonde hair was combed and tied back while in the bathroom, before she came to face Wesker who wore a small smirk on his thin lips.

"...Well?"

Wesker approached slowly, making Jill suspicious of his motives. Within a flash, he had her pinned to the wall, and a needle in her neck. A pained but silent scream came over her features as the P30 rushed through her, rendering her incapable of voluntary movement now. She hated when he did this, as it beared a constant reminder who he really was and reasons why she loathed everything about him. When he stood away from her, she dropped a bit to the floor, barely able to right herself.

"Stand up."

Jill stood on command, and looked to Wesker.

"...We're going for a ride in town. Let's go."

**[12:05 pm]**

The eerily sterile research lab had ten people bustling about in it. They donned powder white lab coats, with a Tricell Id attached to them and the work they were cleared to work on. These ten had been handpicked by Excella and Wesker himself to handle the delicate and important matter of the Uroboros project. While they been told it was an honor and reflection of their superior skill in their fields to be permitted to work on this ultra secret project, a few of them couldn't help but feel a queasiness at the disappointing, and rather grotesque effects of the virus upon their subjects.

At a table lined with vials and glass beakers, two of these researchers were pouring over some pictures of the virus' microscope pictures while they looked at a laptop, where a program was running where they could test their theories. The girl sat back in her roller chair, hands on her forehead.

"This...is so hopeless, Jack. How are we supposed to engineer a virus to enhance a human's body rather than destroy it?"

Jack, a young, black haired man sighed as he sat in the chair next to her, going over a binder full of research on the virus.

"You got me, Ella. A virus hijacks a body's cells to duplicate itself into the virus' own code...this is sort of absurd, isn't it?"

Ella smirked a bit as she rubbed her temples and faced away from the laptop, its bright light hurting her eyes after staring at it for so long. A slender hand pushed back some brown tresses as she looked at Jack.

"Well...supposedly Mr. Wesker himself has been infected and has super speed and strength, from the T-virus. You think it's true?"

Ella was a bit new, but Jack knew. Brown eyes stared at the metal table in front of him, lined with papers, books, notebooks with pens and the like, as he remembered an incident with that blonde beast. It was true that man could move quicker than the eye could see, a wisp of smoke in movement. Able to lift a grown man off his feet with one hand. It was remarkable...and downright frightening to see someone display such brutal strength. Was engineering such a virus for enhancing soldiers a good idea? With the advancement in weapon technology today, was adding super quick and strong soldiers to the mix wise?

"It is...I've seen it...but that was the pure T-virus, not this offshoot. The T-virus came from the Progenitor virus, a plant virus Spencer got from those plants in that area in Africa. This Uroboros is the same offshoot from the Progenitor virus...not the T-virus. You know, maybe if there was a way to introduce those viruses together, it might negate some of those worse effects the Uroboros has...worth a shot. Right?"

At that moment, Excella came in. Ella and Jack were not at all fond of this Italian woman (who they had more derogatory terms for), but she was the director for Tricell in the African branch. She put her hands on her hips as she spoke loudly to the large research room.

"Gather around everyone, I have an announcement!"

Researchers quickly put up what they were doing safely, removing their thick, broad goggles and pulling off rubber gloves as they approached the woman standing near the door. Ella and Jack were the last to approach, standing behind others as the woman addressed them.

" I have been told that theories you may have to improve the Uroboros virus may be researched now. Whether it is the idea of monkey DNA, or any other form. Anything at this point is welcome to be tried. If you do so believe in your theory, develop it, and make a detailed report of it before we do a trial run of the theory. Best of luck to all of you," she said tartly and left, without allowing them to question her.

As it appeared, there wasn't need to question her. Researchers were grinning and more than eager to test fresher attempts at stabilizing the Uroboros project. They were returning to their stations, chatting animatedly with their fellow researchers about the new avenues they could explore and try out. Ella and Jack returned to their own station, heads buzzing with so many ideas.

"Well, we can forget about begging her and that blonde beast to try out our idea now, seeing as we have permission to try any new way to engineer the virus," Ella said with a grin. "How about we go with that theory you just mentioned? May be a good shot."

Jack smirked and nodded as they grabbed a notebook each, and began to brainstorm and write down their theories.


End file.
